


Eclipse

by YoungPyroDude



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungPyroDude/pseuds/YoungPyroDude
Summary: A rewrite of my first fic, Eclipse.The brightest light will always cast the darkest shadow. Join Bayonetta, Cereza and Luka through a retelling of the events of Bayonetta as they seek to uncover the prophecy behind the two Eyes of the World and the secrets behind their new ally. Contains OC, new lore and a whole lot of Bayonetta goodness.
Relationships: Bayonetta/Luka (Bayonetta), jeanne/oc
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue: Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eclipse](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/716807) by qwertykid. 



_ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some quick things to note about this story: _

_ \- This is somewhat a crossover fic, and it will become rather obvious what it is when the OC is introduced. _

_ \- Bayonetta is a little OOC for this story, and some previous story elements and plot points are changed to reflect this. _

_ \- This also takes into account the events of Bayonetta 2 and Bayonetta: Bloody Fate. Elements of the OG story are changed to reflect this. There are also several original lore and explanations featured within, so be prepared for some significant changes to the overall plot. _

_ \- Rated M for language, violence and themes. _

_ \- I don't own anything from Bayonetta, only Platinum Games do. A big cheer for them for their awesomeness! _

_ \- This is a rewrite/add-on to the original story, found on my fanfiction.net page. Upon a reread, and having a friend read the story as well, a few changes have been made (and that’s an understatement) to both bring the story more inline with the original game and to keep more characters consistent/expand upon them.  _

_ Without further ado; Here is Eclipse! _

When the Eyes meet, a titan awakens;

Held by children, blessed of mortals

Not of light

Not of dark

But the meeting of both, the union of life

To remake or destroy the universe asunder

Through the Creator or the Destroyer’s whim.

_ The Prophecy of Loptr, Agent of Aesir _

…

The woman held her child close to her, meeting her Elder’s glares with defiant reverence. She stood in the centre of the room, still standing proud and with poise, despite the beatings she had endured. Her thoughts whirled from one possibility to the next, each one worse than the one preceding it.

This was not right, nor was it proper justice. 

The Elders of her clan were seated at a crescent-shaped table, essentially surrounding her. Beside them stood beings of light, the Elders of his clan, looking at her with disgust. Beyond them were shadows of both Lumen and Umbra alike, their faces and body language hidden.

“In your wickedness…” The central being stood up, pointing at her. The round spectacles on her face did not hide her hateful stare, nor did her mask disguise her rage. “You have broken the ancient commandments, and forged a bond with one of the light. And from this bond, a child was conceived; a child of mixed, impure blood.”

The Lumen Elder next to her crooked his finger, and a couple of masked and robed figures entered behind her, approaching the opening of the table. She gasped, recognising the limp figure held between them. The Sage’s stopped, looking at their Elder for approval. He nodded slightly, and her husband was callously tossed to the ground, hitting it with a dull thud.

He didn’t move, and stayed sprawled on the stone. His name formed on her lips as she reached out to him.

“Our laws are clear.” The man spoke. His voice was not as sharp as the woman’s, but the weight behind his words stopped her from calling out to her husband. “For you, our former ‘brother’, they demand you to be exiled from our brotherhood, stripped of your title, powers and rights.”

“As for you, Rosa, they demand you to be eternally imprisoned, stripped of your powers and free will, burdened by the weight of your sin.” The woman spoke again, her voice cracking in the air like a whip. “As for the impure child, she must be destroyed.”

“No!” She cried out, finally finding her voice. “You can’t! She is innocent in all this-”

“Silence! Its… continued existence brings the prophecy one more step to completion!” The man’s right eye shined with a brilliant blue, betraying his calm visage. “It simply cannot be allowed to live!”

“She’s my child!” She could feel Khepri at her skin, itching to be free. The restraints on her wrists pulsed, and the demon subsided. “You can’t!”

“We can, and we must.” The Witch clicked her fingers, and two acolytes stepped forward. The man behind her was finally coming too. He groaned, slowly curling into a ball. She glanced back at him, panic starting to set in.

They couldn’t. It was just a child.

“Mummy?” A small voice called for her. “Mummy, what’s going on?”

“Get behind me.” She pulled her daughter back, and behind her legs. “Mummy will always protect you.”

She watched as the acolytes walked towards them, a growl escaping her throat. “Mummy will always be with you. Always.”

…

_ Twenty years before the present. _

…

“Here it is, Luka.” The man spread his hands out at the lake before them. The tiny boy ran onto the small beach, his brown and blue scarf trailing behind him, trying to peer into the depths. “Our newest adventure.”

“Here is what? All I can see is water, father.” He turned to the older man, giving him a questioning look. “How can this be-”

The boy stopped, eyes widening. Antonio Redgrave gave a wry grin in response, nodding. “No, Luka. It’s not the water I’m interested in. It’s what is within it.”

“Is it a mermaid, father?” 

“At least I don’t think so. Mr Onythyll spoke of this place as being holy to the extinct Umbra.” Antonio grimaced. “Although I am far more interested in what he is keeping in that basement of his.”

Luka stared at the waves. “This place is holy? Why? How? It’s just a lake.”

He scrunched his nose up. “And the Umbra mountains are miles away from here.”

“Very good memory, son.” Antonio clapped a hand on his back. “There’s much we don’t know about these witches; this may be an ancient burial site. Or a former place of worship, where a contract could be formed.”

“But either way, I bought my Scuba gear.” The bag he was carrying was dropped to the sand, sinking in slightly and erupting a small cloud of dust. “And I will be taking a look. There’s no coincidence that the Ragna would mention this particular place, right as I was trying to piece together the last part of the Umbran history; why it all ended, and how it did. There has to be something here. I don’t know what. But it has to be something.”

Luka merely nodded, opting to adjust his beanie and scarf. Walking back towards the car, he took a seat behind a log and pulled out his favourite book;  _ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. _

As much as he enjoyed going on these expeditions and traveling with father, watching the water for hours while he scoured the bottom of a wreck, a lake or an ocean was very boring. Books, however, offered more entertainment than he could ever dream of. It didn’t matter if it was boring, if it was bad or even if it was a book meant for girls; they were all absorbed and memorised, making him wish that there was more to this world than what it seemed.

Oh, how he wished that a portal to Narnia could open up and take him away to a life of adventure.

After a few minutes, he smelled something sweet in the air. Something like sweetened rosemary, or something like his mother used to spray on herself. He frowned, replacing his bookmark and putting the book back into his backpack. A small rustle appeared in a bush across from him, and he glared at it.

Stupid bushes.

Something splashed in the water, and then something landed on the bank behind him with a thud. Luka turned and peeked over the log, and nearly screamed with shock at the sight.

It was a naked woman. Her limbs were long and spindly, unnaturally so. Her black hair was much longer than her body, splaying out and over her and the beach. She seemed to be looking around, trying to find something. He stayed deathly silent, frozen in fear. The woman might not be friendly. The woman could be a mermaid, and mermaid’s eat men. Well, some did.

He didn’t want to find out.

A scream rang out, and he jumped. The woman slammed her fist onto the ground, and then Luka saw his father floating in the background.

The woman turned around and stared at the floating man. Father began to scream, and his arms and legs were pulled in all directions. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off it. 

“Father?” He whispered, trying to figure out when he would pop up behind him and say how it was all a joke, and they would laugh at how scared he was.

_ Be careful for what you wish for.  _ A voice whispered mockingly.

Then he exploded, blood, organs and limbs flying everywhere, covering everything.

“FATHER!”

…

_ One year before present. _

...

" _ Father Balder! _ " An Applaud was running at him, its hurried gait showing signs of injury and panic. Looking up from the contracts and other various documents that the mortals required him to read, lest his business cover would be blown, the Lumen Sage Balder fixed an annoyed look back at the approaching Angel. 

"What is it? Why dare disturb me?" He turned back to continue reading, listening to it screech to a halt on the polished floors. His mouth curled distastefully at the sound. That would cost time to repair, and he was finished with wasting time. He had wasted nearly five hundred years; the final piece of the puzzle had to be finished now. 

" _ Experiment 10978 has escaped captivity and is rampaging through the laboratories! _ " The Applaud sounded terrified, and that momentarily intrigued Balder. Not much could terrify a being of Paradiso, outside of a now extinct Umbra Witch or an Infernal Demon. 

Then he realised what the Angel had said. The contract fell to his desk, forgotten. His chair swivelled until he was face-on, his attention held fully.

"It did what?!" Balder paused as he felt a tremor ripple through the Ithavoll Building. "Recapture it at all costs!"

" _ Sir, our defences were obliterated! _ " The Angel shook its head quickly, its wings shaking in adrenaline. " _ The only things that might be powerful enough to stop it are yourself or one of the Cardinal Virtues. We only figured out it was trying to escape when the deed was already done. _ "

Another tremor rang through the building as Balder felt an unfamiliar feeling grow within him. His work of twenty years was expendable, as had the previous experiments, but it did not sit well with him to let it go to waste. Especially given this one’s potential to be far more successful than anything else he had tried.

Expendable, but not replaceable. He cursed the blasted thing. Why it couldn’t just lie down, make it easy-

There was also her problem. If she wasn’t compromised, she would’ve taken his children and this whole mess could’ve been avoided. Simple and efficient. 

He was getting distracted by what ifs. She was barren, and it was escaping. 

_ The outer perimeter has been compromised.  _ The intercom rang out, a terrified female voice speaking through it.  _ Lock down all personal. Repeat, lock down all personal! _

"Take me to it." He snarled angrily, raising up from his desk. "Take me to the laboratories now!"

…

It was a surprise the building was left intact. Maybe his creation had enough of a conscience to realise toppling Ithavoll into a densely populated city was not the best idea. Or it was not advanced enough to realise it could have destroyed the building if it had wished. No one was sure what the experiments had done to its intelligence. But then again, how was it supposed to know it was in a city, let alone a building?

Nevertheless, its hidden power was now evident. It was a lot stronger that the data showed. Or what the data even suggested. He reflected on what he knew; it was stronger than the average mortal, but the evidence did not point towards simply punching a hole through the wall. The only known magic it possessed, healing and restoration, was pointless. 

And that was that. Twenty years of experiments and tests, and there was nothing offensive in its arsenal. He smiled cruelly. It had definitely been hiding something. Perhaps it wasn’t as stupid as it made itself out to be.

Balder let his rage simmer as he gazed upon the ruin that was the laboratories. Angelic carcasses littered the ground amongst shattered electronics, tubing and chemicals, alongside a few smears of mortal body fluids. It hadn’t discriminated at all; seemingly everything in the room was subject to its ire and will to escape.

It’s only human to want to leave, he reasoned. He made a mental note to try and have Jeanne prepare them better for next time.

The main holding cell in the centre was completely gone, as if it were disintegrated into dust. Balder reflected that the Applaud was right; the bodies seemed to be torn in pieces or their limbs shattered into unnatural angles. The work of a savage, primal fear to flee. An observation not exactly helpful in determining any new data, but it did tell him that it at least had the sense to run from the place that was causing it pain, at any means necessary.

It wasn’t ideal, but he preferred his experiments to not be blindly loyal idiots. It took loyalty, yes, to help his cause. It also took sense to stay alive until the end.

He watched as several Applauds began to search the ruins for anything that was salvageable. Satisfied with their methodology, he turned and walked outside to determine if the exterior was compromised, and the building would need to be repaired properly. From what he could see, very little. It had simply blown a mortal-sized hole through the side of the building and made a break for it. The authorities of the mortal realm were setting up a protective barrier for the populace, and he sighed to himself as he realised that he didn't particularly want to address them. Mentally noting again to get Jeanne to play around with any witness’s memories, he turned back to walk into the building. A small hole was nothing. 

" _ It seems your little experiment did not pay off, even when it had potential, Lumen Sage. _ " A booming voice called from behind. Balder felt his rage return anew as he stopped and turned back.

"Temperentia, the lord of the winds. What brings you here?" He greeted, both playing dumb and being careful not to let his rage show to the Cardinal Virtue.

" _ Sapientia felt a sudden loss of life, as one does during a massacre. _ " Temperentia was glaring at the Sage, the strange green hologram that was its image flickering in the wind. Its tube-like fingers rotated around, jittering unnaturally, as it continued to speak. " _ I was sent to investigate the matter, and possibly supply assistance, due to me knowing the full extent of your experiment. Now, explain yourself; how did several humans and more Lagunan die at the hands of it this time? _ "

"It seems that the only explanation I can give you, as to how it managed to escape at all, was that it was harbouring abilities none of us knew about." Balder replied neutrally, and truthfully. There was no reason to lie to the Auditio now. "It could have brought down the building if it so desired, but it seems it chose not to or simply did not think it could."

" _ Sapientia would have loved that. _ " The Angel boomed, a dry humour lacing its tone. " _ Do you have any inkling as to its current whereabouts? _ "

Balder's immediate reaction was to lash out at the Angel, but then stopped to think. Where would it have gone? Jeanne had wiped its memory, several times over as well; it was extremely unlikely that it would head to its relatives. That being said, however, the subconscious could never truly be wiped anew. If it was…

Well, he could say that Jeanne could handle teaching the specimen how to breathe.

"I would start by checking out its next of kin, or its relatives." Balder answered, confident and suave. He had a feeling he was merely throwing out an answer, and not being the character he tried to be. "That is if the experiment is as stupid as most mortals tend to be."

" _ Do you have any requests on my investigation? _ " Temperentia asked. " _ I am quite curious to find out about your experiments capabilities in a non-testing environment _ ."

Balder finally let his unemotional shell crack. A small smile crept over his face as he began to formulate a plan to retrieve his experiment.

"If you find it there, take it back and bring it to me. Alive, preferably." Balder explained, nodding in self-approval. "Then kill everyone related to it. Make it realise that such actions cannot go unpunished."

Temperentia squinted at Balder. " _ And if it isn't there? _ "

He contemplated doing nothing. It wasn’t that important, yet… He was bored. He knew Jeanne was itching to do something. Why not make his accomplices happy? A happy servant is a good servant.

Balder smiled fully. "Kill them all regardless. It will learn that actions will not go unpunished."

" _ It will be done." _ The Angel smiled back, a smile filled with lust and insanity. " _ May Jubelius, the Creator, grace you. _ "

"And you as well."

Balder continued to fake his smile until the Angel returned to Paradiso. "There will be one being in this universe that Jubelius will grace, and that honour will be mine."

He turned back to find the Applauds waiting for him. He looked upon them expectantly.

"Well? Did your search provide me with anything?"

Hesitantly, the Applauds each shook their heads in turn, as if to confirm each other.

Closing his eyes, Balder felt his rage regrow as he realised the severity of what had truly transpired. 

It was gone. 

All of his work was gone. A momentary lapse in concentration, and now it was that. A momentary lapse in his plans.

"Go and get Jeanne. She will deal with this." He walked back into the Ithavoll building, his fist clenching tighter and tighter. “She will make them suffer!”

…

_ Six months before present. _

...

Balder closed his eyes with fury as the latest experiment gurgled and moaned with pain. He heard the muttering of the Affinities to the side of him, and it didn't sound promising. Opening his eyes, he watched with frustration as the mortal expanded, then tore itself apart as the cells refused to bind. It fell to the ground, dissolving into green goo.

" _ Another failure… _ " The Applaud said from behind. " _ What now? _ "

Balder felt himself calm down as his mind began to accept that this method was not going to work. "I suppose it is due time to try plan C."

He turned back to face the elite denizen of Paradiso. "Get my secretary onto the black market, in any way you can. We need to reveal the location of this." He tapped his half mask, letting his eye glow blue slightly.

The Applaud tilted its head. " _ You want to draw out the Witch? _ "

Balder nodded, then smiled. "Indeed. Find me the books and scrolls of time." He ordered the Affinities standing around. "For I shall be requiring them soon."

" _ What if she doesn't take the bait? _ " It asked, trying to reason the alternative. " _ What then? _ "

"Then we will be forced to continue." He smiled a cruel smile. "Until two are made, or we find our missing experiment."

" _Your command is our_ _will."_ The group of Angels bowed to him, and then disappeared back into a portal to Paradiso. Stepping out of Purgatorio, he stared in disgust at the quivering goop on the floor.

"You can still hear me, can't you?" He smirked as the quivering increased. "Let it be known that you were the final mortal to be blessed by me."

The quivering stopped as the mortal finally died. Gesturing and muttering softly under his breath, he watched as the puddle of flesh dried up and turned to dust and blew away. Turning away, he felt something pull at him to turn back. Glancing behind, he saw a flicker of something in the shadows. Frowning, the Sage turned back and walked into the cell. Reaching into the corner, he pulled out a worn piece of paper. He read the words scrawled onto it, his eyebrows raising at every sentence.

_ I will be free. I will be free. I will be free. I will be...  _ The sentence repeated itself, as if a madman had written it.

Smirking, he crushed it into a small ball and set it alight. Tossing the ashes to the ground, he stood up and walked out of the cell, telekinetically closing the door behind him. It slammed with a thud, the metallic sound echoing throughout the room.

He continued out of the laboratory, hearing the pleas of the mortals as they reached out of their respective cells, begging for release. Balder ignored them. The return of Jubelius was at stake, and mere mortals would not stop it from happening.

The time would come for Jubelius to return.

The time will come. He was certain of it. His will would make it come.

The shadow that always remained cast would be no more, and only light would remain. It was his desire, and it would be so.

“Well, it seems your plans have changed.” A feminine voice called to him, interrupting his thoughts. Looking ahead, he saw a tall, elegantly dressed woman in red ahead of him, half of her face obscured by an extravagant hat of the same shade. The half that was visible was pale, almost porcelain in coloration. Her grey eye was crinkled with a small smile, and her lips followed suit.

“Our plans have changed.” He chided, putting emphasis on the ‘our’, and she stiffened in response, the humour falling from her features. “We have been working together for one hundred years; allow yourself the same level of respect, Mademoiselle.”

“As you wish, Father.” She nodded. She glanced back at the cells behind them, then to his right eye. “The experiment is gone, and now you turn to her.”

“She will know her fate soon enough.” Balder nodded back, gesturing for her to join him. “And when she does, the power that has been hidden away for five hundred years, the power that should’ve been yours to wield, will be reawakened.”

“And you will hold up your end of the bargain?” The woman walked alongside him, her graceful steps allowing her to easily stay on his pace alongside him. 

“You know that I will, Jeanne.” He answered, a smirk on his features.

A mirroring smirk appeared on Jeanne’s as well. “I know all too well. Is it time to get the girl?”

“My daughter was once my greatest burden.” His right eye turned blue for the smallest of seconds. “It is now time she was made useful.” 

Plans within plans were beginning to unfold. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to go deeper into his schemes.

He wanted to end this charade.


	2. The Vestibule

_ AUTHORS NOTE: I don't own any part of the Bayonetta franchise. Platinum Games do. _

Chapter 1: The Vestibule

The graveyard was silent, except for the occasional cry from a raven above or the chitter of insects below. It was a dull place, as expected, but it held a calm air of remembrance about it. One that demanded respect and not the ‘sacrilegious’ act she was committing.

She would know. She spent her day to day life in a church. As much as it was droll, boring and very not her style, it had an air of serenity and peacefulness. And it got herself closer to God’s little helpers, and their vitriolic tendencies. That was always a bonus.

However, the sight of a church always filled her with unease. She figured that it was due to her inner demons, but…

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

_ “My child, you seek to remember?”  _ The Abbess had asked her when she had bought it up. “ _ In the work of God, we need not to remember who we were, but who we are. Stay true to the path put before you, and not gaze back at the path behind you.” _

She was bat-shit crazy like the rest of God’s little helpers, but her words echoed through her heart. She glanced around at the graveyard, wishing that she too could bury her memories away. Forget about wanting to know her past.

But curiosity did kill the cat. And she would be damned if she didn’t figure out those lost memories of hers.

“Well, we are here, Nun-lady.” Her escort announced, wheezing and leaning on his shovel for support. He held an arm out, as if he was welcoming her. She barely spared him a glance, her ire slightly raised after being interrupted from her musings. “The second half of the graveyard.”

Now her thoughts were elsewhere, and not on the task that lay ahead. Although, they were tangentially related, if she was thinking about it. 

Being a witch certainly wasn't easy.

Sure, it had some great benefits, like looking ageless, being functionally immortal, the nearly limitless power and the ability to summon infernal demons like a mortal would summon blood for those particular areas of procreation.

That was a terrible synonym. Her lips curled as she recalled a poor man from a week ago, his face as she realised how… impotent he was. If anything, it was more like how mortals were so quick to the slaughter. All it took was a whisper at the right moment and they were off to the chases. 

There. Much better.

The downside was that said demons were always looking for a single moment of lapsed concentration to drag your soul back down to Inferno, mortal weapons couldn't handle your power and broke faster than most men, the sex was mostly horrible and pointless, and no one could bloody see the kickass manoeuvres that you were dishing out to angels to sate your various demon's eternal thirst. Such a thing was only ever slated for an audience of one, and that audience member had seen much more artistic performances elsewhere.

Bayonetta, however, simply didn't give enough of a fuck to care about the downsides. The power she had obtained from being a witch was enough to sate her desires and her freedoms. Only if she truly knew how she had got these powers in the first place…

But that was neither here nor there. Currently she was grave robbing for a corpse. A special, unique corpse. Well, it wasn't a corpse, as the person wasn't really dead, but then again, what do you call someone who sleeps in a graveyard?

She rolled her eyes and walked forward, still clutching her ‘borrowed’ bible in her left hand. Her pupils flitted between headstones and tombstones, searching. Her ire grew once she found a grave titled ‘Rovan’, and she grimaced.

Did he really have to go through all this effort for this?

Her white outfit, a long, flowing and form fitting dress that covered almost her entire body except for her face, was covered in dirt and sweat, and her false round glasses irritated her nose. As much as the disguise was a typical nun's outfit, she absolutely hated it. It was neither flattering nor comfortable to wear, and she still couldn’t wrap her head around how her fellow Nun’s could wear the damn thing for years on end. 

She really wanted to find this corpse fast, and not a minute over schedule. Not for what she wanted the corpse for, but just to simply go back to her hotel room and have a long, warm bath. Her eyes closed for a moment as she imagined the soothing waters, then opened as she returned her concentration back to the task ahead of her.

"Ya know, some of these fuckers must be some famous fucks somewhere." A short, fat and seedy-looking man began from behind her. "I mean, we've already dug up poor Robotnik. There's gotta be someone else here that's like him."

She decided to finally start ignoring him as she tried to find the correct grave and or potentially casket. One half of the graveyard was already sifted through, and the second half lay looming ahead of them. She already had a suspicion that it was the one that was put out into the open, central to the west wall. But that was obviously a trap, and as a former accomplice had once said; ' _ It never did not pay to be careful'. _

At the same time, she knew it had to be the one she was looking for.

"I mean, Robotnik was old, crazy and got beaten up by some fuckin' small blue mammal over some fancy pieces of jewellery, some fuckin’ emeralds or some shit. I mean, they are pretty to look at, but they ain't got shit on diamonds, believe me." The man was, in fact, talking again. "And I know my diamonds, grave robbed a few of them in my lifetime, believe me."

The man walked up beside her. "And who are we looking for anyway? And what is a Nun like you trying to grave rob these fuckers? I thought you all were above earthly possessions and all that shit."

"I'm looking for Rodin." She answered neutrally, ignoring most of the questions. Her disguise was working like a charm. He quite obviously didn't recognise her from the Nunnery she worked at, or the countless deals she had done with him as her normal, charming self.

"The black, bald and buff motherfucker?" The man raised his eyebrows, and shades, at that. "He died like last week. I was at the funeral today as well. He was a shady one, I tell ya, he always wanted me to do hands on stuff! Fuhgeddaboudit, old Enzo here never does anything with his hands if he can help it!"

Bayonetta stared coolly at Enzo as the former finished his rant. The man at least had the grace, or the sense, to be embarrassed.

"He is in that one there." He pointed to the coffin currently sitting out in the open. Bayonetta cursed at the lost time and made her way over to it. Bringing up her bible, she opened and turned to a random page, beginning to whisper incantations under her breath.

"Praying for the fucker? Man, the guy doesn't deserve any prayers in my opinion. But that's my take on it. You do you, Ms Nun."

Could he please shut up?

“You know what day it is today?” He lit up another cigar, and her nostrils scrunched up with the offensive scent wafting into them. “It’s my birthday.”

_ He really doesn’t want to shut up. _

She agreed with her normally silent patron. It wasn’t that he was going to interrupt her or knock her concentration away; he was just the absolute worst to make conversation with. Everything she wanted to make fun of would just go right over his head. Literally.

Why did he have to own this particular graveyard? Was Rodin mocking her from beyond the grave?

“My kids are making me a birthday cake. Cute little fuckers, if you tell me.”

She had met his children a few times. The boys were still a lot left to be desired. The girl was… tolerable. She still thought they were the ugliest things ever as babies, and they hadn’t grown much better since.

“I can’t wait to get home, relax, and eat this cake. My wife is supposedly helping them, so I really can’t wait, ya know?”

For as exalted as Mrs Enzo’s cooking was (she still hadn’t learned her name or cared enough to), she still had not eaten anything prepared by her. Was it a giant travesty? No. She could afford better food, made by better chefs, served at better places. Sentimental things like homemade meals were pointless in her eyes. Why bother caring about the little things when you can indulge in something better?

She hesitated in her ritual slightly. She didn’t know why, but she felt like that was a lie. But why would she lie to herself?

“Jesus, you really do get into this shit don’t ya?”

Enzo finally fell silent as he realised that Bayonetta was pointedly ignoring him. He muttered something under his breath, then turned around to relieve himself on a tombstone.

…

Enzo returned to reality a couple of minutes later as he leaned over her shoulder to try to read with her. His eyes narrowed at the title, then became confused at the words.

"Hey! What are you even doing?" He recognised the passage that the Nun was reading. "I'm no religious man, believe me, but that chapter is the one where God destroys humanity for the first time. Ain't a prayer for the dead, if you ask me."

The Nun smiled at his words, the first real emotion she had chosen to show him. "It’s just a little party trick, Enzo."

Wait a minute.

He knew that voice. He had recognised that voice. 

He back-pedalled, trying to put distance between him and… well… everything.

The world lit up with a shining white light. His sunglasses didn’t help, and he threw his hands in front of his face.

“They’re here!?” He screamed to the ‘Nun’. “For this douchebag!?”

“I see them.” Her glasses and book were cast off to the side, and she seemed to be grinning. “They are messengers of ‘God’.”

The way she spat out the last word all but confirmed who it was. Terror was beginning to grow through him. He pulled himself back to his feet, glancing around frantically. They were here. It couldn’t be her. It simply couldn’t be her. There was no way it could be-

And with that the lid of the coffin burst off and the man contained within seemed to float out, like an angel. He was bald, dark-skinned and muscular, just like Enzo remembered. The brown coat, black pants and dark sunglasses adorned him, just like they had in life.

"R-R-Rodin?!" He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground in shock. Rodin was dead! He had seen his corpse this morning! What the fu-

"Hey! Ms Nun! Where did you go!?" He couldn't find the reason he had been hired in the first place. It had to be her. There was no way it wasn’t her now. “Ms Nun!?”

"Hey Enzo; long time, no see." Rodin smiled cruelly, reaching over to his pocket. Enzo yelped as one of his cigars was stolen straight from him, but he offered no resistance. "And as for Bayonetta, she's doing some housework before the real party begins."

"Bayonetta?" Enzo's face went pale. "She's really here?"

Climbing back to his feet in a rush, he turned and sprinted out of the graveyard, heading back to the carpark. One hand searched his pocket for his keys, the other clamped itself down onto the top off his head, locking down his hat.

"She's gonna destroy the motherfuckin' car again!" He screamed, his voice trailing off into the night. "I just got it paid off as well..."

Rodin grinned at the panicking and retreating mortal. “And a good day to you as well, useless deadbeat motherfucker…”

He reached into his casket, grabbing two pairs of guns. He tossed the weapons at a seemingly random spot in the graveyard, in a slow arc looping downwards to give her time to catch them. A small, purple coloured portal opened, and the four weapons disappeared one by one.

"I hope you have practiced your part." He smiled as he placed the cigar into the corner of his mouth, chewing on it slightly. He clicked his thumb, setting it and the cigar above it alight. Breathing in, he let the fumes of the drug fill him. "Because this is going to be a long show."

…

It had been such a long time since Bayonetta had felt such ecstasy, such feeling, such pleasure…

Her body writhed and turned, following movements she herself found utterly natural despite not knowing how she had learnt them. Her Nun disguise lay on the ground in tatters, since of course God’s messengers would attack the heresy first and the target second, and her hair covered for her modesty, weaving itself around her into a black, skin-tight uniform. It covered her body, except for most of her upper back and her chest, showing a small window of cleavage. The white gloves from her nun outfit remained on her arms, and two sleeves extended from her elbows, flapping in the air as she moved. Her hair was done up, beehive style, held together by two long, red ribbons, giving her a look that screamed sex and sleekness. Utilising techniques she didn't remember learning, she fought against her opponents with unchained lethality. 

None stood a chance, of course. The weaklings were that; weaklings.

"Didn't your bosses learn from last time?" She asked a random Angel, who paused in surprise in realising she was talking to it. "If you want to play with me properly, you need to send the right toys so I can play without breaking you."

Throwing her broken gun through its head, killing it, she sneered in disgust. "And it looks like I need the right toys as well."

Pulling herself out of Purgatorio briefly, she found Rodin punching any Angels that came close to him, his cigar held aloft. 

"More guns!" She demanded, and he obliged, tossing her four black and white handguns. Letting them pass into Purgatorio, she felt how different they were to the last pair almost instantaneously. They were somehow worse.

"Eww, Rodin should be paying me to use these." She reflected to herself as she punched through another angel, shattering the gun instantly. "These toys wouldn't satisfy anything."

"Hey, if you don't have the materials…" Rodin slammed another Angel into the ground, causing Enzo to fall over again at the exit of the graveyard. "You have to make do with mortal weapons."

"These mortal toys are so baaaad." She whined, shattering the other on the weapon of another Angel. "Guns!"

More were tossed. They met the same fate.

“Guns!”

These four were shattered into an Angel's stomach.

“Guns?”

Her magically-charged bullets tore through the barrel, ripping apart the gun and the Angel’s flesh into explosions of metal and gore.

“Guns!”

No more were tossed to her. Shoving an Angel that was too close for her comfort away, she turned with a baleful eye to Rodin. "Rodin…"

He smiled and shrugged. "You broke ‘em all. Sorry."

Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel. "Looks like I have to do this the old-fashioned way. TELOC VOVIM!"

She began to move sensually, letting her Umbran power flow through her. The closer Angels realised what she was doing and began to back off, whereas the further ones thought this was an opportunity to strike and began to close in, causing the two opposing Angelic lines to crash into each other, lumping themselves into a perfect group. Bayonetta braced herself as her hair left her body and spiralled upwards into a small portal. A massive portal opened behind the Angels, and a massive, demonic centipede made of her hair came crawling out ferociously towards the pack. Its maw opened wide and lunged through.

Within seconds, they were almost all dead. One smart one had jumped to the side and had escaped Scolopendra’s wrath, but a quick kick and uppercut had sent the Angel flying in the direction of Enzo. She winced, hoping she hadn’t gotten lucky and hit the mortal. As much as she wasn’t his fan, she still had her duty to keep.

Returning her attention to the pack, she smirked at the sight of the centipede Demon roaring in approval at the meal it had indulged in. Waving her hand, the Infernal was sent back to Inferno, the red portal fading and her hair reweaving back onto her figure, Bayonetta turned to the sound of clapping.

"Looks like you still got the moves." Rodin turned, his features betraying the small smile from the rush of battle. "But you owe me some for faking the funeral, smuggling in the weapons and my newest baby. Treat it well."

He gave her a small black bracelet containing an orange jewel, something he had named the Bracelet of Time. Rodin had sold its abilities on her, as it had the power to focus her temporal abilities inherent to an Umbran to slow time on command, and she requested he bring it to her. After months of him creating it, they decided that he would make the trade in the mortal realm, using Bayonetta as a lure to summon Angels for the halos Rodin so desperately desired. She didn't know why, she didn't care why; all she cared about was whether she got the damn thing or not.

"Take all the halos from here and me." She turned around, trying to find Enzo. "I really don't have any use for them."

Rodin shrugged, and held his hand out. The nearby golden rings began to float towards him, and he shuddered as they passed into him.

"Never can get used to that." He reflected to himself. Returning his attention to the witch, he spoke neutrally. "You might want to head somewhere else, just in case Paradiso does decide to send something big at you."

Bayonetta turned and pouted. "You're going to stop me from playing with them?"

Rodin laughed, a short bark of sound. He tossed the useless cigar to the side and folded his arms. "Only if you have a death wish.” 

He grew serious, his visage stoning up. “However, it seems we might need to speed up my project.”

“Of course!” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “You talk the talk, but you still can’t satisfy a girl.”

His expression didn’t change. “I have the feeling you actually will need it.”

He tossed her a purple lollipop, and she happily obliged. Licking the tip, Bayonetta instantly felt the energy flow out and into her, rejuvenating her body and spirit. As loathe as she was to admit it, she was rather fond of these magical lollipops that the man had an endless stash of.

“Oh, and remind my good buddy Enzo that he still needs to pay up.” Rodin glanced in the direction of the car park. “And tell him that if he dies without paying his tab, I will be dragging him out of the deepest, darkest depths of whatever hell he may find himself in, and then I will make him pay, my style.”

She smirked, twirling the lollipop in her fingers. “I think the threat would be better off coming from you, Rodin.”

He grunted in annoyance. “Why do you think he hasn’t paid his tab yet?”

He clicked his fingers, and a deep red portal opened up beneath him. “I'll be in the Gates of Hell if you need me."

And with that, he disappeared into the ground as red fire marked his exit. Bayonetta thought about rejecting his advice to leave, but as she continued on that train of thought, she realised both the merits and demerits of the situation, and that the demerits did outweigh the merits.

"Oh bother." She said to herself as she stepped back into the mortal realm. "Looks like I need a driver."

She found Enzo back at the car they had both arrived in. It was a respectable red convertible, paid for by whatever schemes the man had unleashed upon some naïve mortals. Now, the key word here, she smirked, was was.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me…" She heard him repeating to himself, and she almost giggled when she saw the almost-wreck his car had become.

…

Bayonetta reflected to herself as she tuned out Enzo's ramblings for probably the sixth time that day, as the pair drove through the city of San Andreas. As she had figured out and relayed to herself several times by now, she had no memories, except the ones she had made as ‘Bayonetta.’ She wasn’t even sure if that could be her real name. She frowned, the stupid Abbess’s words coming to haunt her yet again.

_ “…we need not to remember who we were, but who we are.” _

Sometimes the past was more important than being philosophical. Yes, she was fine with being ‘Bayonetta’ and if she was being honest, she didn’t particularly care for her missing past. What she already had was enough for her. It certainly intrigued her more than anything else this world had to offer her.

Her first memory was being awakened by some force about twenty years ago, from a casket at the bottom of a lake outside of a nameless town inside of the country called Vigrid. Almost immediately after she had seen a mortal man torn to pieces in front of her, and then her first encounter with Angels. She learned rather quickly that they were a force to be reckoned with, and they were not friendly in the slightest. 

She didn't know what exactly caused the man's death, but she had a sinking feeling she had affected it either directly or as a by-product of her waking up. She had no possessions, no weapons or anything that could help her, only instincts and what she could only describe as natural to her. The only thing with her was a strange red stone encased in an ancient watch and a tube of ancient lipstick bearing the names Balder and Rosa. After retreating and finally escaping the Angel's wrath, she discovered her abilities one by one: being able to switch between two dimensions at will, almost limitless strength, her ability to summon Demonic hair constructs and the ability to slow time down. 

Of course, her temporal manipulations weren’t that good. She could barely stop time to dodge an attack, let alone launch a counter inside of it. It’s why she had this bracelet made, and she ogled at how it sat on her wrist, like it belonged. However, much to her chagrin, Rodin had warned her that she probably still shouldn’t go on the offensive inside of ‘witch time’, as she called it.

“Everything obeys the laws of physics still. The slower something is, the heavier and harder it becomes. Try to hit something when time is fully stopped, and you might shatter your own fist.” He had said, after she had accepted his offer. “Not very handy for a fighter like you, right?” 

It was better than nothing. To the untrained eye, it looked like teleportation. Not that that skill was impossible; just well outside of her abilities.

Years of research had led her to believe she was an Umbra witch, and a former member of said ancient clan of witches in Europe thousands of years ago. Apparently, they had all died out in a global witch hunt event some five hundred years ago, brought on by the mistrust of mortals of the various Umbran arts and the fact many were now accepting the word of God. This had been a global phenomenon too; various Umbra adjacent clans of witches had also gone extinct, as if the path of the dark arts was now a bad omen, even though it had been practiced since the dawn of time. 

Well, all of them were dead with the obvious exception of her. How she survived, she did not know. Nor did she care all that much, if she was being honest.

Barely anything survived of their teachings, history or culture; the only true records left were the mythos surrounding them, and the legends that passed down each generation as fairy tales or stories. Several had been put together by a man long deceased, and she was secretly glad someone had gone through all the time and effort to make a guide. It was still full of holes, and barely made any sense, but it was something. A small piece of her past, her history.

The main part that she took from it was the duty of an overseer. The one section that had any detail to it was how the Umbra were protectors of the mortals from the forces of light, literal counterparts to the actually-extinct Lumen Sages. As much as becoming some sort of tyrant over the mortals had tempted her slightly, the one tenet she could attach herself to was what she designed her moral compass around; protecting those who couldn’t from the light.

She smirked at the irony of it all.

Her name was a mystery to her. She had consulted site after site, text after text, hell she had even read the damn handy handbook backwards in an effort to find a clue about her own identity. But nothing described her. If she was being honest, nothing described anything, but she put that down to stupid mortals and their lack of ability to retain history.

Suitably miffed at the luck of the draw, she decided to choose a name for herself, one that combined European and the few existing Umbran names she did know; Bayonetta. A name derived from the word Bayonet; a fixture attached to the barrel of a gun. Rodin had agreed with it instantly, claiming it suited her perfectly. She couldn't agree less.

The last sole survivor of an ancient clan, with amnesia. What a cliché that was.

"… I mean, its obvious yer no fucking Nun. So, what the fuck was all that back there?" She broke out of her thoughts to hear Enzo ask his six hundred and ninety first question. "You're a thief and espionage expert, not a goddamn holy figure that can disappear at will!"

"Ok, little Enzo, it's about time you actually learned the rules about me." She turned to him, brandishing the lollipop stick. "Rule number one: I don't kiss and tell. Rule number two: I ask and pay you, not the other way around. Rule number three…" She petered off as she felt something off in the air. She glanced at the dented side mirror and rolled her eyes.

Were they really that desperate?

"Rule number three? The fact you can't remember the fucking thing means you probably- OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

A plane, or more specifically a mortal Boeing seven-four-seven, was hurtling towards the pair, tearing up the skyrise around them. Smiling to herself, Bayonetta realised she was going to get to play some more before the day was up. And she was going to be able to test her latest toy. A good day to be had by all. 

Standing up in the convertible, she quickly released a time stop spell to slow down the plane, and hopefully along with everything in the immediate area. It worked marvellously, the plane crawling to an almost complete stop, the collapsing skyscrapers to either side of it falling apart in slow motion. A quick glance showed that the buildings were empty, and she frowned. 

That certainly wasn’t normal. Someone had gotten the mortals out of the way.

Stepping to the outside, she grabbed the car and threw it, along with poor Enzo, well above the path of the plane, to ride after she was finished with this problem.

Jumping onto the plane, she saw her suspicions were correct; it was crawling with Angels. They weren’t exactly looking for her; if anything, their feathers were already ruffled. Her appearance merely got a small greeting of annoyed shrieks, and not the normal zealotry she was accustomed to.

"Hello boys." She greeted them with a playful smile. "Why don't you play with someone your own size? This toy is far too large for any of you to use, so you might as well have a go with me, hm?"

They responded with a low hiss and screamed back at her, an obvious challenge. Bayonetta readied her magic and began to think about her Infernal summons, and then paused as an unfamiliar, yet familiar feeling washed through her.

Luckily for her, whatever she had sensed the Angels had sensed too. Or maybe they had finally spotted whatever had made this ruckus. They growled to her left as someone landed beside her. 

"Just like old times." A sharp voice called out. It was laced with a small French accent, turning what could’ve been an English accent, like her own, into something more distinctly European. "Although, it seems you've changed, Cereza; you seem far more confident about yourself now. Shall we dance then?"

Being very careful to not let her surprise show, Bayonetta turned to face the newcomer.

She was dressed in red, a tight-fitting top with loose-ish pants. Strange guns adorned her heels, like Bayonetta did when she had some, and a pair was enclosed in her hands. Her blonde-silver hair enclosed her head in a small pixie cut, and a warm, welcoming smile adorned her face.

This person knew her, and she was probably an Umbran witch, judging from the similarities. And the fact she was moving during her witchtime spell. 

"I'm sorry, just who are you?" Bayonetta shot back, her eyes narrowing. "I don't remember ever making your acquaintance, and I would never forget a face like yours."

That question and statement hit the newcomer like a tonne of bricks. The smile disappeared from her face, confusion replaced it and anger finalized on it. Making an annoyed grunt, she turned away and launched herself at the Angels. She fought with ferocity and anger, and Bayonetta realised that it was eerily like hers, just a lot less flourish-filled. Her intricate combinations of attacks both stunned and impressed her, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud. Bullets would fly from the barrels of the guns on her feet, and occasionally a long, thin katana would whip out and slice through flesh and steel alike. Constructs of hair, giant fists and boots would rain down as a flurry ended, and she recognised them as ‘wicked weaves’; a technique she had read about, but never had the chance to practice due to her not knowing what she was supposed to be doing. Observing her for a few more moments, she followed suit and joined the fray. 

If this was a fully trained Umbra Witch in action, she had a lot left to learn.

They made short work of the Angels together. None stood a chance to the newcomer, and Baynetta knew she was just diminishing returns. They stood, staring at each other, neither sure on how to act. The woman in red seemed to be studying her, and Bayonetta in turn was unsure on how to approach the elephant in the room.

She was the first to break the silence, turning to the plane beneath her with a frown. "We aren't moving."

"Of course we aren't; I cast a time spell-" Bayonetta realised that it had worn off a few minutes before. The plane was floating in real time, and she could see the confused faces of the mortals outside of Purgatorio both staring at the plane in fear, astonishment and reverence. 

"This is new... Are you doing this?"

The plane began to lower with both women on it. Turning to face the rest of the road that didn't get destroyed, both were surprised to see a figure with one arm stretched out. It was wearing what looked like rags, and they covered its entire body from view. A strange lump was affixed to its back, making it appear extremely top-heavy. From the power she could sense expelling from the figure, Bayonetta figured that this was who was lowering the plane. The woman to the left of her hissed, as if she recognised the person, and prepared to launch herself at them. Unfortunately for her, the figure had accomplished their task.

As it hit the ground with a dampened crash, the figure lowered its arm and sagged slightly. The impact staggered the pair of witches, but both recovered gracefully. Bayonetta could feel the figure's eyes scrutinizing both her and the other woman, and she felt a strong urge to turn away in shame. But as soon as it appeared, it left. The figure turned away and ran, running faster than most mortals and on a pace that Bayonetta would have slight trouble maintaining.

"Is that an old friend of yours?" Bayonetta turned, but no one was there. Shrugging, she leaped off the plane, grabbed the car and the screaming Enzo and tossed them back down onto the road, ready to continue her journey.

…

The day's events stuck with Bayonetta long into the night. After reconnecting with Enzo, and enduring yet another rant about his safety and his wife’s birthday cake, she had discovered that he knew of some auction in the black market for a stone that glowed blue, something awfully like the one contained within her watch. It was traced back to the Ithavoll IT company, the main power in Vigrid and the place of worship for all things Angelic. So, she was going back to Vigrid tomorrow, to find out about this rock and, if all things went well, it could connect her to her past. Her thoughts, however, remained on the woman in red.

She knew her, and it annoyed Bayonetta to no end that she had inadvertently pissed her off and pushed her away. By her opening words, she deduced that they must have been close, perhaps closer than most friends. She was very interested in meeting her again; perhaps she could provide a clue for her identity, but her reaction to her amnesia did not bode well for her to be reasonable. Especially if she could remember what name she had been called. She was so caught up in all the excitement that she had forgotten the damn woman had known her name!

Pushing her sheets to the side, she sat up and turned to sit on the side of the bed. The chilly air helped her body relax, and she let the moonlight gleam off it. Even though it was bright and made it difficult to fall asleep, the moon had always soothed her. The one light in the darkness.

It was almost poetic. It was too bad she didn’t enjoy poetry that much.

The life of a witch was tiring, and sometimes mortal pleasures did help her relax. The companion she had chosen was satisfying to her primal desires, but as like all the mortals, never really fulfilled her. Perhaps she needed something-

Then her head swam as images fought their way to the forefront of her mind. New, unfamiliar ones:

_ An arena surrounded by cells, as her and the women in red fought to the death… _

_ A falling clocktower, the woman in red standing by her side as they endlessly fought Angels… _

_ A torso shaped figure breaking down a citadel's walls, a four-legged monstrosity launching missiles after it, mortals rushing in after, pitchforks and torches blazing… _

_ A voice crying in anger as she felt her body turn numb as she cradled a woman’s corpse in her arms… _

_ A sharp pain in her chest as something punctured her, and her mind faded to black… _

With a gasp, she snapped back to reality. Shaking her head of her thoughts, she tried to understand the significance of what she had seen. Memories? It was very possible. Clearly, she didn’t recognise anything, but they were from her perspective.

Another puzzle. She was sick of puzzles.

“Why can’t something be served to me on a silver platter?” She whispered to the night. “I deserve a small break, after what I’ve been through.”

"Babe? You alright?" The male prostitute behind her asked sleepily. Bayonetta straightened herself, cleared her exterior of anything weak or negative, and turned and smiled.

"I'm alright, my dear. It was nothing."

“Are you sure?” The man pulled himself up. “It looks like you have something on your mind.”

“I’m paying you for physical pleasure, not therapy.” She pushed him back down, her augmented strength beating out his resistance easily. “Now, shut up and hold me.”

Falling back into the bed and into the arms of the stranger, she wondered what tomorrow would bring. But for now, she was content with the present. And certainly not worried about the past.

…

The figure in rags stopped to rest. Breathing heavily, they looked behind them, trying to see if they were chasing him. Seeing nothing, he collapsed onto the wall, satisfied with his escape for now.

So far, so good.

He didn’t know what he was thinking, revealing himself so obviously like that. And to her, nevertheless, and whoever she was scheming with. He had been passing through, running from the Laguna as he always had been, and then he had seen the Angel infested plane flying directly towards the city, ready to kill hundreds of thousands of people, including him. Not particularly wanting to die from a plane crash, he had gone out to save himself.

It was a stupid risk, and he knew it. She had killed the Angels, along with some other unknown person, well before he could even grab the plane telekinetically. And, there were no bloody people in the buildings, so he couldn’t even give himself a pat on the back for saving them. Still deciding to go through with it, he knew she had recognised him almost immediately, and he nearly dropped the plane then and there and ran. 

Continuing through the port, he began to sway and stumble. Holding an arm to the wall, he reflected that he had been on the run for almost a year now, with no real breaks in the chase. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. Dragging himself along, he saw an electronic sign tell him where he needed to go. 

Stowing himself onto a ship that was heading back to Vigrid, he figured that the Angels wouldn’t be smart enough to think he would entertain going back to the country that started his personal hell. He figured that she would be smart enough to figure it out, and he expected the Father to. He was not going to underestimate them.

He was, however, going to estimate how long it took before they realized he was back onto ‘home turf’. As much as he wished it was longer, he couldn’t see him surviving there for longer than a week before they caught wind of him.

He didn’t bother with the argument of either of his body failing or they simply found him. Either way, he had to keep moving. The problem was, he was running out of places to move to.

Finding a corner amongst the shipping containers, he sat with his back to it, allowing him to view the open space in front of him easily. Pain flared up in his extra limb as it leaned against the wall, but he blanked it out by casting a small healing spell onto it, and gritting his teeth and willing himself to not feel it.

He then felt another spasm of pain wrack his body, and he shivered in response. The dull ache that was his limbs weighed them down, and he knew he wasn’t much longer for this world. 

_ Dying here was better than the living hellhole that was Ithavoll _ , he reasoned to himself.  _ And I get to put a hole in whatever the Father was planning. _

Closing his eyes, he looked forward to the small amount of sleep he would get on the trip, before they found him again and he would be forced to defend himself.

He was intent on surviving in his freedom for as long as humanly possible. That was all he wanted right now; to live.

_ Must be doing a real good job of it then… _ His final thoughts tormented him as he drifted off into sleep.

…

He was here.

Jeanne fumed as she grabbed a passing car and tossed it into a nearby building, not caring about the family inside or the people still evacuating. She had almost forgotten about him, and she had been so preoccupied with the Father’s plan that she didn’t even stop to consider looking for him on a whim.

He was right there, well within reach, and she had dropped the ball. 

A small blessing to this situation was that she knew how he had escaped, and that he was still alive. Somehow, the blasted thing was telekinetic. She knew mind skills weren’t unreal, as the Father himself was both a master of telepathy and telekinesis and she herself had a small grasp of the mind arts, but it had been twenty years. If the thing had learned them before his escape, he had somehow managed to hide that he was fucking telekinetic, a feat which should have been far more notable in anything they had done. Hell, even when a shield was passed into one of their tests after one of the scientists couldn’t take anymore of the beating she was dishing out, he still didn’t grab it.

She was somewhat impressed with his dedication then. He was far more aware and intelligent than anyone had given him credit for.

“When did he learn it…” She mused to herself, finally starting to calm down. “And how did he learn it?”

Then the memory of the woman who called herself Bayonetta came through again, and her rage was filled again.

“And how could she forget!?”


	3. Gates to Paradise

_ AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't own anything from Bayonetta or Final Fantasy 7. Platinum Games and Square Enix do (That's-a spoiler) _

Chapter 2: Gates to Paradise

_ ‘Long since the records of time, there lived two European Clans; the Umbra Witches and the Lumen Sages. They lived in harmony, gatekeepers to the dark and light arts respectively.’ _

She had read this passage far more times than she had cared to count. She had also read the book more times than anything else. Always for another meaning. Always to see if something could be kickstarted from her memories. As always, she was left disappointed.

Bayonetta closed the journal with a sigh and a roll of the eyes, throwing it back into Inferno without a second glance. Resting her chin on a hand, she glanced outside of the train’s window. Rock and stone greeted her, and she grimaced. 

_ “We will be arriving at Vigrid station shortly. Please have your ticket ready.” _

She smirked at that. Yet another perk of being a witch. She stood up, already balanced and poised through the train's subtle movements. Letting her legs guide her, she stepped forward and through several conversing ghost-like apparitions of men. She giggled as they exclaimed in surprise, each one looking around to find the interloper. She was already in the next carriage before they forgot about her, and resumed their talks.

Oh how she wanted to jump out of Purgatorio and scare them. Not only would it be absolutely hilarious, it would make waiting the hours or so to get here so worth it. But she had a job to do, and a stone to-

_ “My dear sweet child.”  _

The whole world darkened. She paused, her expression becoming guarded. The voice was male. She didn’t recognise it, nor the accent it carried. That was fine; however, calling her a child was a little too-

_ “You have grown in your absence. From a small girl, lost in the world, into a strong, beautiful woman, now poised to take her place in it.”  _ It was trying to be soothing. It came of as something else completely.  _ “Make peace, my child, for I will see that no harm will come to you.” _

A presence was behind her.

She turned around, glancing back into the previous carriage. There was no one there, as she expected. Her eyes surveyed the area, trying to find anything odd.

Then the area lightened up, and the train continued like nothing had happened. She shivered, glancing out the window as the station finally rolled into view.

“Paradise?” She whispered. “This is supposed to be paradise?”

The stone comprising the station was unnaturally beautiful, carved into several high arches and staircases, leading presumably up and into Vigrid itself. There was very little plantlife, or any life at all for that matter. It was stark, barren and generally unpleasant.

“It feels more like a nightmare.” She couldn’t help but add. The place felt wrong. It felt too… heavenly? She couldn’t quite describe it.

Funny. Her Nunnery wasn’t nearly as sickening as this.

_ Be on guard. Something isn’t right. _

“What do you sense?” She asked. The train had stopped, but she didn’t quite want to leave yet. Not until Butterfly had advised her.

It had come as quite a shock when she had asked something into the void of her mind, and then something independent had answered back. She had assumed she was going crazy, and both the voice and Rodin had told her otherwise. According to him, all fully fledged Umbra had a patron demon, a main source of power for their various demonic contracts. This main one, according to the journal she carried, was where every contract was brokered. The stronger the witch, the stronger the patron, and the more contracts that witch could undertake. 

At some point in her previous life, she must have been one hell of a witch. She had, at the very least, one dozen contracts with various Infernals, and that was well above average. And her main patron? A demon by the name of Madama Butterfly; a woman once scorned by a previous lover to the point where she took her own life. Since suicide was frowned upon by the denizens of Paradiso, she had ended up in Inferno, where she had gathered power to become the patron of the abandoned and the lost. She wasn’t the strongest Infernal to make a pact with, but she was nowhere near the weakest.

_ I’m not sure. It feels wrong.  _

And of course, she was never talkative and often spoke in riddles, or reflected her own thoughts. What a useful patron Madama Butterfly was. 

Walking out of the carriage, she discreetly exited Purgatorio and mingled in with the mortals, aware of how much she stood out amongst them, unaware of the glowing eyes that followed her out.

…

Vigrid never changes.

Bayonetta reflected on the town's unofficial motto as she walked through its streets. Sure, technological advancements were in place, like trams, electricity, cars, the train that brought her here and the like, but it was just like it was as she had visited and fled from it twenty years ago in her quest to find her identity. If the reports she had also read were correct, the town was also exactly identical as it was five hundred years ago when the Umbran Clan was the main seat of power. The town hall was made of the same stone, the shops were essentially the exact chains as they were five hundred years ago, the housing district was identical right down to the family living in its walls.

_ It's probably why they don't take too kindly to strangers. _ She thought to herself as she admired a piece of jewellery in a store window. It whilst the clerk inside glared angrily at her.  _ It's too difficult for them to adapt to change. _

"This stone clashes with my eyes." She finally said aloud, fully knowing and making sure the clerk could hear her. Tilting her head, she continued. "Looks like you lost a customer."

The glare's ferocity doubled, and Bayonetta merely smiled back as she turned and began to explore the city more. What she really needed was transport, and she hadn't had a clue as to where to find it. The Ithavoll company, and Isla Del Sol by extension, were much further inland, and her small amount of research had told her there were pretty much zero routes to those without guaranteed transport there and back. There was a walking track that led through the Umbra Mountains and to an airport outside of Vigrid, but that was five full days of solid walking, and she really did not feel like doing that. 

She got the funny feeling that maybe, perhaps the smallest maybe, that the people of Vigrid didn't want to have tourists exploring the country. Or even beyond the city itself. No wonder their tourist revenue was one of the lowest in the world. She wasn’t sure why; one of the world’s leading churches, the Ragna, and one of the world largest corporations, the Ithavoll Group, were both centred here. They were both fairly well known to the mortals, and were both relatively public with their practices and dealings.

At least on the surface. Who knows what secrets the pair had under the surface.

She did suppose this year might have been different. Every five hundred years, the town apparently had a celebration/commemoration/festivities, honestly she couldn’t care less of what they were, for the resurrection of the main deity of the Ragna religion. According to the local legends, she was asleep and was waiting for the right moment to wake up, and this year was meant to be the prophesied year of awakening. If it wasn’t, then in five hundred years it would be the day. And so on, until the deity actually woke up and delivered the end times or something. It sounded like normal hocus pocus to her, but in her line of work she wasn’t sure what was real and what was legend.

Still, she didn’t like how frigid they were. Maybe the Vigridians were all holy figures, trying to appease their god with their pious and humble nature.

Bayonetta stifled a smile with that. Every one of God’s faithful always believed the same thing, and failed to see the hypocrites it made them. Humble, yet boastful of that? 

“Miss?” A voice called out to her. She turned to look at a small boy, probably less than ten years of age. She wrinkled her nose, but crouched down to look at him in the eye.

“Yes, little one?” 

“Your ribbons are so pretty!”

She was bored already. But, she was curious about the surroundings. “Does your mother let you talk to strangers often?” A quick glance over his shoulder found an older woman staring knives at her. 

“Mom says I shouldn’t talk to strangers, but how am I supposed to meet new friends if I don’t talk to strangers?”

His logic was impeccable. She smirked at him. “Aren’t I a little old to be your friend?”

“Nope! You’re younger than sister, and sister’s old!” The child had one of her ribbons in hand, and was looking over it intently. “Who are you?”

_ That’s enough. _

Children were bad enough, and this one wasn’t getting her anywhere. She ignored the question and stood up, slowly pulling her ribbon out of his grip.

_ At least answer the question. _

“I don’t know, little one.” She turned and began to walk towards a cafe. Perhaps there was a better opportunity elsewhere. Perhaps on a tourist flyer that didn’t exist. Or a sign that was probably outdated by several centuries.

A small disturbance drew her attention from her musings. A chair randomly fell over, falling perpendicular to her. Frowning slightly, she followed its direction, trying to confirm her suspicion. As she expected, another chair fell over in the same direction, and then someone got pushed to the side further up. It could not be a coincidence, as there was no wind. The familiar aura of Paradiso washed over her, and the presence of angels filled her senses. A potted plant was then hurled down the street, breaking apart in mid-air. The Vigridians gasped and bowed their heads in prayer at the seemingly divine occurrence, whereas Bayonetta's eyes narrowed.

Something was happening in Purgatorio. Glancing at a window, she saw the trace of an Affinity hurtling down the street. Rolling her eyes in mock disappointment, she folded her arms.

"And to think I wasn't invited…" Bayonetta pouted slightly, then stepped into Purgatorio. She was unaware of the mortal's eyes that followed her in, and the click of a camera.

Immediately, she was knocked to the side by an Affinity that was storming past her. Gracefully recovering with a twirl, she frowned and saw as a pack of the Angels chasing something or someone deeper into the bowels of the city. Being careful not to attract their attention, she followed behind, climbing to the rooftops to pursue from above. A small red glow briefly caught her gaze on the ground, but she ignored it and filed it away for her memory later.

A few seconds of rooftop parkour later, she had found what everyone was fixated upon. The figure in rags from yesterday was running into an alleyway, one with a dead-end too. It sprinted down the path, barely stopping in time to crash against the wall and lean on it. She noted that it appeared exhausted, as if it had been running for a long time. The Affinities, however, looked fresh and ready to kill.

It was undoubtedly, completely and utterly fucked. Unless she wanted to play hero, which she was unsure of. She had other objectives that required her attention, but her conscience was eating at her. And it would be a good sacrifice for the Demons and some halos for bargaining with Rodin later. And besides, her Umbran tenets were dictating her…

"Oh, fuck it…" She whispered to herself, then launched herself off the roof and landed behind the Angels.

"Hello boys! Why don't you play with me instead?" Bayonetta taunted as she stood up. "That toy looks rather exhausted, and I'm sure you want something new, something fresh, to play with…"

The Affinities, to her relief, turned and faced her. One of them stepped forward, and began to speak in the Angelic language of Enochian, the speech amputated by random guttural shrieks as its beak moved in unnatural ways. 

" _ Our business doesn't involve you. Allow us to reprehend the Father's experiment, and we will let you live. _ "

She laughed at the absurdity of the claim. "Darling, Angels are always my business…"

_ “How…” _

Another Angel pushed itself up through the pack, pointing at her.  _ “It’s that Witch!” _

The Applaud screeched in fury, its feathers hackling up.  _ “Get her! For the resurrection of Jubileus!” _

As if she was going to let them take the first move. Launching herself at them, she flipped over and struck the Applaud with a kick to the head, shattering its beak and skull in one go. Pushing off of the dying Angel, she felt a halberd swing under her, narrowly missing her. Grabbing it on the downswing, she landed back on the ground and ripped the weapon out of the Affinity’s hand. It stumbled forward, and she sent it into the alley wall with a kick. Another Affinity darted towards her, firing a missile of sound from its trumpet… gun? She couldn’t describe it as anything else. Slowing time down, she got behind the projectile and swung the halberd like a bat, satisfaction rushing through her as it changed directions, back towards its source. Time resumed as normal, and the Affinity when flying, hissing in pain.

The next Angel stepped forward, and Bayonetta swung the halberd around, slashing its weapon down. Capitalising on the opening, she dropped her weapon and ran forward, slamming into its chest with an outstretched leg. Grabbing it before it could fly away, she whipped it around and tossed it into the final Affinity, impaling it both into the Angel and onto its outstretched halberd.

She stood there, breathing heavily from the adrenaline. She wasn’t sure that it was a good thing that she got such a rush from combat, but at that moment in time, it did not matter. She had heard how much of a dance the Umbra made of fighting; what good was dancing if she couldn’t enjoy it.

Straightening up, she held a hand out and pulled the fallen halos towards her, catching and holding one out for inspection. As usual, the normally intricate design had turned into a simple golden ring, and she sighed at the lost value. Absorbing it, she shuddered as the last of the halos entered her, and the quiet approval from Madama Butterfly at the offering. Quickly surveying around to make sure nothing else was there to interrupt her, she turned to face the figure. She did want some answers, and the easiest-

A fist caught her on the chin, sending her wilding careening off and into the wall.

Before she could recover, or even react to the sudden attack, she felt another slam into her stomach, driving the air from her. Gasping in pain, she saw another fist fly towards her in an uppercut. Knocking it to the side with a flick of her wrist, she tried to send a punch of her own at the figure. Instead her arm stayed at her side, as if a force was holding it there.

“Oh... bother.”

Twisting past his next two strikes, she kicked off the wall and connected with its head with a knee, her arm still stuck in that annoying pose. It staggered back, a hand held to its head. A surge of triumph pushed through her as her arm unfroze, and she landed to see it charging at her, fist stretched out.

Grabbing it before it could connect, she pulled the figure over in a judo-style throw to the ground using the momentum of the punch, and then pinned them down by straddling them.

"What the fuck was that for?!" She exclaimed, putting her hand on her hips. At least it had the sense to know it was beaten, and had made no attempts to get her off of it. "I was rescuing you, you fucking idiot."

"You're Jeanne!" An undoubtedly male voice rasped back at her. "You're the one who helped him!"

Bayonetta was confused. This one recognized her as well? And had another name for her? His next words surprised her even more, but refuted her initial theory.

"You're the one that made me this freak!"

Recovering quickly, she smiled and held a hand up. "Darling, if I had made you anything, I would have made you a freak in other, much more fun, ways."

The man snarled, then coughed in pain. "You did this to me! Don't deny it!"

"Me? I did nothing. I don't even recognise this fabric." She grabbed the hood and pulled it down, revealing a sickly, thin face crowned with blonde hair and golden eyes that burned holes into her. "And I certainly don't recognise you."

"You're all the same to me." He hissed. "Your face might've changed, but your power is the same!"

Ah, that cleared a lot of things up. "There's more than one Umbra witch, darling. You've seen us both, maybe you should try to find her. Better luck next time!"

He continued to stare with unabated anger at her, and she continued to smirk at him. "You know, this is the second time I've been in this position in less than twenty-four hours. A new record, if you are keeping score." She teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"You kidnapped me twenty years ago, wiped my memory and changed me for the worse." He accused, ignoring her attempt. "And now you've found me to bring me back to him!"

"Darling, I only woke up from a long sleep twenty years ago." She replied to him. "I would have no time to kidnap anyone. And besides, did I not just slaughter a bunch of Angels that were going to bring you back to this... father, person? Why would I do that, hmmm?"

A loud screech interrupted the pair. An Applaud, flanked by numerous Affinities, had found the alley and the two it contained. Gracefully climbing to her feet, Bayonetta faced the newcomers.

" _ Give us the experiment or burn, witch. _ " The Applaud gestured towards the figure behind her that was struggling to climb to his knees. It glanced at the blood and Angelic corpses, and its ire grew tenfold. " _ The Father wishes for it to be returned, or else! _ "

"Well, I have to say that sounds like a tempting deal." She pretended to ponder for a second. "But I think killing you all and sending you to Inferno sounds like a much better one, don't you agree?"

"We will have unfinished business, witch." The man said behind her. The Angels wasted no time and immediately launched onto the offensive. Dodging past the strikes of the polearm the Applaud carried, she slowed down time briefly and launched a barrage of punches into its abdomen, launching it into the alley's wall when time resumed. Throwing out kicks, she began to battle her way through the Affinities, feathers and Angelic gore filling the air. Watching the man from the corner of her eye, she saw how uncoordinated, how graceless his style was. What made up for it, however, was the explosions of blood as each strike he landed tore through them.

Something brushed into her mind, and she jolted. Slamming one Affinity into another, she noticed his eyes glowing slightly, and she ascertained that he had somewhat read her mind, or at least the briefest parts of it. Ignoring him, and his attempt, she returned her focus to the dance of battle.

As she cleaned up the last of the Affinities, she turned and watched as he clumsily fought against the Applaud, trying to tear it apart instead of whittling it down with his strength. Luckily for him, the Applaud didn't expose his weakness and stayed on the defensive. He grabbed its polearm, and fire began to dance at his fingertips as he simply melted the weapon in half and broke through its defence. Her eyes widened at the implication, not paying attention as he scored a right hook and launched the Angel up. The nameless man grabbed the torso and concentrated for a second, burning and melting the flesh and bone apart, until the Angel died in a pool of boiling metal and blood.

"You know, you could probably learn a thing or two about finesse." She said, pulling herself out of her thoughts and back to the situation on hand, crossing her arms and leaning against the left wall. In comparison, he breathed raggedly and heavily, leaning over in pure exhaustion. "Your style is completely lacking in anything."

"I don’t care. It gets the job done…" He panted. He turned and looked at her. "I was mistaken; you aren't her."

"Of course, I'm me, and I am one of a kind, darling." Bayonetta shook her head in annoyance. "I'm guessing your little trip into my mind had something to do with that?"

He nodded. "Yeah, something like that." He began to sway. "For what it's worth now, I'm sorry for attacking you, and I'm deeply grateful for you saving me."

"Are you alright?" She asked, tensing slightly, ignoring his apology for the moment. "You look awfully horrible."

He didn't answer. Instead, he collapsed and fell to the ground. Catching him before he broke his own face, she carried him, half running and half sprinting, to the Gates of Hell entrance she had seen earlier.

_ You better be worth this wasted time _ . She silently cursed her conscience.  _ Stupid do-gooder consc-ience. Can’t you tell me not to save damsels in distress? _

…

The room was silent, except for the hum of machinery and the occasional beep from a machine. If she was quiet and was concentrating enough, she could hear the small gasps of pain from the unknown man, or the low noises of confusion from the man next to her.

_ This is a very interesting turn of events. _

She couldn’t disagree. This was something even her journal couldn’t help describe, or even make sense of. He was utterly fascinating.

"To be completely honest, I'm kind of surprised he is still alive." Rodin looked up from the screen of the hospital wing of the Gates of Hell. "There's so much shit in him that has no business being in a mortal body, and not enough shit that should be. Hell, I’m not sure what to call him."

It honestly didn’t come as a surprise to know that Rodin had a hospital. Or ran it himself. As aloof and callous he made himself out to be, she knew better. 

Bayonetta peered at the screen and tried to make sense of it. The numbers and diagrams didn’t give her any clear answers, so she gave up pretending she knew what she was doing and looked over to Rodin. "The only thing I'm interested in is whether he will live."

The man lay naked on a surgery table, tubes of all sorts attached to him. Upon arriving at the Gates, Rodin had seen him, and then immediately carried the poor kid to the hospital wing. After tearing off the rags that covered him, both were sickened, but slightly curious when they saw a frail, sickly body that was covered in scar tissue. There was a single black wing fixed to his back, seemingly deliberately hidden amongst the rags, explaining the lump, and evidence that someone had torn off a second one.

She was, at the very least, curious about the man. 

_ And you do care about him. _

…

Yeah, she did. Only because he managed to hurt her with his strikes. That alone was reason to keep an eye on him. The less unaccounted for problems out there, the less likely she could be driven from her objective.

She could feel her roll her eyes in her head. 

"Oh, he'll live. I'm the best doctor there ever will be." Rodin smiled cockily. "The real question is; what the fuck happened to him?"

"All he told me was that he was an experiment from twenty years ago, or something like that." She replied, a gloved finger tracing a scar that ran from his bicep to his chest. "What have you found?"

"Well, this poor kid has been injected with so much shit; I've found evidence of Umbra blood and cells, Lumen Sage blood and cells, Angel and demon blood and souls. He’s been modified, somehow, to carry them, and bind them to himself. If I was a betting man, it seems like someone tried to make their own Lumen Sage or Umbra witch right here, and got confused halfway through." The smile disappeared from his face. "The problem is, the cells keep trying to obliterate each other, the souls are in constant battle and adding on top of that the fatigue and malnourishment, he is probably in constant pain from simply living."

Bayonetta stared with somewhat newfound respect for the unconscious man. This was something she understood, and could make sense of. "The cells are incompatible, you mean?"

"Yeah. Angels and Demons are understandable, being polar opposites and all, but Lumen Sages and Umbra Witches are surprisingly incompatible.” He nodded.

“Aren’t we both humans? How would Lumen and Umbra biologics not be compatible?” She faked a gasp and bulged her eyes out in horror. “I’m not an alien, am I?”

“Ha! Don’t worry, Bayonetta, you are as human as they come. It's probably got to do with the light and dark powers not exactly being on the same wavelength or some metaphysics shit like that. I haven't researched the technicalities; I don't do unethical stuff to mortals.” He explained, looking intensely at the screen before turning back to her.

“Biology-wise. Money and transactions come with the territory, and it's easy as fuck to do." He added before she could open her mouth to refute his claim. He fixed his sunglasses back to his head, hiding his blood-red eyes from the world again. "Apparently someone managed to get the cells to play nice. However long that lasts is another story completely."

He beckoned to Bayonetta, standing up from the screen. "Come. There's nothing more we can do for him until he recovers and wakes up. And I've finally made a weapon you might be interested in."

"They better not be like the last couple of toys you've tried to sell me on." She teased. Rodin's weapons were of the highest quality, but she had a penchant for breaking them easily. The claws were the ones that had lasted the longest, but those were currently still stuck in a wall in Africa.

"No, this one is something you'll enjoy. I made these babies personally." He shook his head. “Tailored and suited for someone who is as destructive as you.”

She didn’t know whether that was a compliment or an insult. So she took it as neither. "This new toy sounds promising. Also, since when were you a doctor?" She asked as they walked back into the Gates proper. “I’ve never really had the opportunity to ask.”

"It's boring to just be a bartender and weapons supplier for millennia. Gotta change it up somewhere." He answered as he flipped over the sign to ‘Do not Disturb’. “Have a good rest, kid. You’re gonna need it.”

…

_ Four days passed. _

_ … _

_ He was in pain. He knew that much. It’s all he ever had known. _

_ The Affinities outside were discussing his abilities, and the various one-of things they had seen him do; basic magic, basic healing, the ability to traverse into and out of Purgatorio, his former ability to fly and his ability to read minds.  _

_ He almost smiled. They hadn’t learnt about the one he was practising at the dead of night, where no one was watching. When they assumed he was sleeping, like he had been for fifteen years. _

_ His arms were aching again, and his back was flaring up. Grimacing, he turned his attention back to outside of the glass tube he was in. _

_ He reached out, grabbing one of the monitors. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on lifting it. One inch. Two inches. One foot. He could feel how it wanted to fall down, to spin around and find its equilibrium. He craned his neck slightly, increasing his grip on the object. _

_ No one had noticed, of course. They wouldn’t think that he was telekinetic.  _

_ He held it in position as he began to reach out for the rest of the objects in the room. One by one he felt them rise, obeying his command. _

_ He was in control. _

_ “ _ What is this?” _ One of the Applauds had finally noticed what was going on. “ _ Experiment one zero nine seven eight, explain yourself!”

_ He smiled as he opened his eyes and threw everything randomly, releasing everything he had pent up for twenty years. Monitors and filing cabinets smashed into the Laguna, the scientists and other objects, including his cell. The glass imprisoning him shattered, and shards flew in all directions. _

_ He relished this pain. This pain was what was going to get him to escape. _

_ Vaguely aware of the klaxons and sirens in the background, he tore apart the tubing holding him in place and launched himself out, telekinetically grabbing everything and throwing it at the weakest part of the wall. Angels and items alike smashed into the wall, leaving a huge dent in it. Pain was wracking his body, shards of glass tearing muscles, ligaments and flesh apart. He laughed at the pain. _

_ He would not fail due to himself. He was stronger than before. He was going to escape, and he would not fail a second time. _

_ He gritted his teeth and grabbed everything again and repeated the throw. This time, the wall gave out and it exploded outwards in a symphony of flesh, concrete and metal, revealing the outside world. _

_ It blinded him. _

…

The man with no name woke up in an unfamiliar place, his eyes flickering open and freeing him from his memories.

It was white, yet red, sterile yet dirty, peaceful yet chaotic. Groaning, he tried to recall why he was where he was.

He remembered running from Angels as they found him again. He got cornered, then someone saved him, and it felt a lot like the Witch that had torn his memory from him. After seeing her fight, and seeing her with his mind, he realised that it wasn't who he had assumed, and then it was all a giant blank. He had probably collapsed again, that he was certain. Whether he was back in  _ his _ clutches was another story.

Groaning, he sat up. He saw that he now looked a lot healthier than normal, and that he was naked. His flesh wasn’t as sickly or as thin as it was, instead returning to a healthy pale pink. Poking it with a finger, he felt something flare up and he groaned in both pain and annoyance.

At least they could’ve fixed him.

Glancing around the room, he tried to find his clothes. Well, his rags would be more correct, but he wanted something familiar, and something to hide himself away in. A set of clothes did lie stacked on a small table on the other side, along with a note on top of it. Awkwardly and slowly, he walked over and read it:

_ This here is for you. Don't worry, it's on the house. Come to the bar when you're decent, and we'll talk. _

_ R and B _

So, these R and B people were responsible for him, he guessed. Pulling on the clothes, he knew instantly that they were perfectly fitted to him. that would be fine, except they perfectly contoured around his wing instead of hiding it. Shamefully, he tried to stuff it behind the shirt, but it seems that the tailor had accounted for the possibility of him doing that. Or simply made them to fit exactly.

Fuck them, whoever they were. He did not need that reminder hanging over his shoulder. 

Moving stiffly, he walked out of the room, trying to keep his wing as low and compressed as possible.

…

Bayonetta admired her new set of guns, named collectively as the Scarborough Fair. As Rodin had promised, these guns were weapons she could consider using for any other Angelic skirmishes, and potentially greater enemies if they were to appear. They felt more alive than anything she had ever held, and she recognised the power they contained. When she asked Rodin what the secret was with them, he shrugged and mentioned that four individual demons were now missing from Inferno permanently. After testing their potency in a few skirmishes around the Vigrid entrance to the Gates, she could now say she had a proper weapon worthy of herself.

And she had never felt as complete as she did.

Rodin had convinced her to stick around until the man she had rescued had regained consciousness, so she could have a hand in his future. Her immediate reaction was to not delay her plans and l;eave him with Rodin, but a quick argument with her patron had convinced her otherwise.

_ What is the point of risking your neck and saving him if you aren’t going to figure out what he is? He might be a key to your past. _

Bayonetta had absolutely no clue what a man with one wing who looked like a walking scar tissue with his shirt off could possibly be to her past. But if Madama Butterfly was going out of her way to defend this man, and point her destiny towards him, he must be important.

She had agreed, with great reluctance, and the pair had spent the better part of several days discussing the events of the previous twenty years, the potential future of the man and how they would impact her plans.

He did charge her for all of it. Without dashing a sweat, she had handed over several thousand halos, with the promise of more to come.

"It looks like sleeping beauty has finally awakened." Rodin mentioned whilst he was cleaning a glass. Bayonetta turned and saw the man standing awkwardly at the entrance of the bar. He looked a whole lot healthier than before, and was wearing black pants, trousers, shirt and a long overcoat. His wing was tucked back and looked like he was attempting to conceal it behind him. The size of it, however, made it stand out and made him stand out. A couple of patrons fell silent at his appearance, and openly gaped at him.

"You know, it's a lazy fashion designer choice to make all the clothing the same colour." She replied, watching with a small amount of sympathy as he awkwardly tried to find whoever he was looking for, looking around like a lost puppy.

"I don't make style my forte, unless it's requested." Rodin answered. "Practicality, that's where it works for me." 

“Holy shit… Look at the size of that!” One patron slurred, a burly man that Bayonetta recognised, much to her dismay, pointing at the wing. “It’s so… big!”

“Hey!” His friend grabbed his arm and pulled it down. “Don’t point. That’s rude!”

“But look at him, he’s a freak!” 

The man’s head snapped up at that, and the half full glass shot out and slammed into the drunk’s head, shattering instantly. The friend yelped as the man pitched over and fell face first to the table, blood pooling underneath him.

“That’s… rather violent.” Bayonetta turned and continued to sip on her cocktail. “Another on the murder tally for this year?”

Rodin grimaced, then shook his head. “He had it coming for a long time. Never could keep his mouth shut.” He put down the glass and addressed the man with a shout. "Over here, stranger!"

The man turned, and she gasped to see how emotionless he was. He had just killed a man, for Sheba’s sake, yet he wasn’t the slightest bit bothered by it. He walked over to the pair and took the empty seat one away from the Witch, opting to stare at his hands in disinterest. Frowning slightly, she made no mention of it, nor of the black gloves that hid his skin.

"I'm guessing you're this 'B' character?" The man asked, looking up to stare at the bartender. His voice had a soft, melodic quality to it, not dissimilar to a being of Paradiso, but laced with the same venom that the denizens of Inferno carried. It was certainly an upgrade to the scratchiness that it was when she met him, she figured. It wasn’t a bad voice to listen to, which was a major plus when it came to dealing with other people. 

It certainly wasn’t the worst thing on the planet she had heard.

"Rodin's the name." He replied with a small chuckle. "What about you?"

The man hesitated, then shook his head. "I have no name. The best thing I know myself is by the number one zero nine seven eight."

Rodin shared a glance with her, she nodded and decided to let him continue the talking, nursing her drink as he did. "Why is that?"

"That was my experiment number they gave me." He replied in a simple, factual tone. "That's all I have known myself as."

"Well, stranger, it has come to my attention that you probably need help living and being around in this fucked up world." Rodin said. "Bayonetta here has volunteered to take care of you for a small period."

Bayonetta felt it was her cue to interject. Placing her empty glass down, she turned to him. "I think you just need some training and you'll be set to leave into the wild."

The man shook his head almost instantaneously. "I don't want to bring the wrath of heavens onto you as well. I would prefer if you didn't."

Rodin frowned, collecting the glass. "Look kid, I know you're trying to act tough in front of the pretty lady-"

"She is an Umbra Witch, just like that other one." The man smiled bitterly. "And I punched her in the face rather easily."

"That is tru- Wait, he punched you?" Rodin asked incredulously.

"He got lucky, that's all." Bayonetta defended. "I wasn't expecting to be punched by the person I risked life and limb to rescue." She placed a hand on her forehead in mock horror. "I can never be taken seriously again, right?"

"That's some ammo I got for later. Thanks kid." Rodin smiled, then turned serious again. "Look, the both of us are wanted by Paradiso for reasons other than having knowledge of you, so it honestly doesn't bother us that more Angels will come."

"And I need to kill the fuckers anyway." Bayonetta continued. "It's a win-win situation for me, no matter what." She placed a hand onto his thigh and added sultrily: "And you get to travel and have some fun with me as a bonus."

To her expectations, he went bright red and turned away from her. "Wha-!? Ahh... um, errrr…"

Rodin smiled at his stumbling. Passing another cocktail to the Witch, he continued on. "I have heard that Bayonetta is very lively in bed and in combat, of which I've witnessed one; you can choose which. You’d be an idiot to turn her down for either one."

"Only until the end of Vigrid." He answered after he regained his composure. "Then I leave. I don't want to be more trouble than I'm worth."

Rodin nodded at Bayonetta, who returned it. "Seems fair enough. You have your own business to attend to anyways."

The man then groaned slightly, and grabbed onto his stomach. Both bartender and witch leaned forward, ready to help if need be. 

“Jesus, kid.” Rodin warned as he straightened himself up, seeing that it was just a minor flare. “You aren’t ever going to be one hundred percent; so don’t push yourself unless you need to.”

“And what?” The man glared back. “Be nothing more than a charity case?”

“You should know we aren’t going to treat you as an invalid.” She grabbed his shoulder gently and pulled him upright. “But if you are going to accelerate your little bouts of pain as fast as you can, then we are both going to take steps.”

He conceded with a nod, pain still evident in his eyes. “It’s hard to not accelerate everything when everything hurts.”

“Do you-“

“Yes. Everything hurts because everything is fighting.” He rolled his eyes, and she barely managed to stop herself from smirking at the action. “According to the Father, no one’s been in my position before. So everything I’m feeling is unprecedented.”

“Are you sure you have nothing?” She turned to Rodin. “No lollipop or anything to help?”

“Look; this is all new territory for me; I’ve never seen a Lumen Umbra hybrid, or a Demon Angel one for that matter. This guy here is both, and somehow he hasn’t turned into green goop from the shit inside of him. God knows what is going to help him.” He shrugged. “But I’ll look into it as a favour – I don’t want my patients dying on me.”

The man smiled, closing his eyes with a small bow. “Thank you.”

Rodin collected her glass, giving her a wry smile as he placed it behind the counter. “Pounding them down tonight, baby.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to get drunk. Haven’t lost my liquor yet.”

“You have an increased metabolism, yes.” The weaponsmith placed a new drink in front of her. “Still means Still means you can eventually get drunk.”

She shook her head at the glass. "You can't just be referred to as 'darling' or 'kid' all the time." Bayonetta said, changing the subject abruptly, glancing to the winged man. "What name do you want?"

“I…” He hesitated. His fist clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to calm himself. “I don’t know…”

"How did you name yourself?" Rodin asked her.

"Combining languages and looking at a gun." She replied and turned to the man, studying him. Pulling out one of her new guns, she compared the pair. "How about… Seraphim?"

"Seems too poignant." Rodin shook his head. "What about Adraxon?"

"Too demonic. Lucas?"

"Too normal…"

The pair went at it for several minutes, throwing names that even Bayonetta had trouble pronouncing at each other. The man, however, pulled a black feather out of his wing and studied it. While they were still arguing, he crushed it and glanced at two pictures on the walls and straightened up. "Sephiroth."

Rodin and Bayonetta fell silent, their minds whirring over the suggested name.

"I like it." She said. "Combining Seraph of Paradiso..."

"... with Roth of Inferno." Rodin finished. "Real similar to that videogame character from years back, but who's gonna remember that shit anyway?"

The man smiled. "Sephiroth is who I will be.”


	4. Vigrid, City of Deja Vu

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't own anything from Bayonetta or Sephiroth's name. They belong to someone else who is in fact not me._

_\- If anyone is wondering, yes, Sephiroth is only Sephiroth in name and image only. Everything else is my own creation, I hope_

Exiting the portal, the Umbran Witch gestured to the man behind her. "Come, this way."

"Where exactly are we going?" Sephiroth asked, frowning at the direction she was walking. They had spent the last half hour in the Gates, Bayonetta restocking on various items and Sephiroth trying to learn more about himself, since he now had the opportunity to without constant interruptions from Angels and the people who took care of him. 

He had not got very far with either; he already knew he was somewhat telekinetic, telepathic and had basic control over some elements, such as fire, ice and lightning, whereas Rodin and Bayonetta were unwilling to share any information about themselves that could have been helpful. The information about himself was already known to him from his year on the run, so he had learned nothing.

And now they were in Purgatorio, trying to figure out the way through and out of Vigrid. He figured that getting out of the town/city was the easy part; they could pick a direction and walk until the town was gone and the wilderness claimed them. Whether they reached the correct destination was another story entirely.

"To be honest? I'm not really sure." Bayonetta walked up to a town map. Placing a hand on her chin, she let her gaze linger on a small trail leading towards the north-west. "There is supposed to be some transport out of here, and through the Umbran Mountains and finishing at an Airport. I’m not seeing it, although."

“Isn’t there a highway to the north?” He glanced up at the top and noticed that the map had no exits there. “I travelled down it once.”

“It starts around the airport and heads inland.” She gestured towards the empty space next to the map. “From what I know, it passes through several towns and goes over several rivers. All not pictured here.”

“This isn’t a map of Europe.”

“No, it’s not.” She gave off a sigh in exasperation. “It barely explains Vigird, for Butterfly’s sake!”

"This map is not useful in that regard." He agreed with her as her frown began to deepen. Staring at the map, he noticed many places of interest were missing. "Maybe we could ask around? The people should know the lay of the land better than we do."

She laughed at his question, turning away from the map and towards the town. "Ohh, you are sooo naïve. You're going to be hard to tease."

Walking away, she left a dumbstruck Sephiroth behind. He darted forward, keeping pace with her, but walking behind her respectfully. "But it's a legitimately good suggestion…"

...

_“The people should know the lay of the land better than we do.”_

That statement irked her more than she liked to admit. She knew that Vigrid was where the Umbra once made their home; if anything, this should’ve been a nostalgic trip down memory lane for her. 

But nothing was familiar to her. She had something in the back of her head that was telling her she should know, that this **_was_** familiar to her, that there was something she **_was_** missing, but she couldn’t figure out what that was.

_“The people should know the lay of the land better than we do.”_

The statement was false. She knew it, and she wanted to turn around and slam his head into the ground until he begged for forgiveness-

She straightened herself up. He was innocently stating his mind, not trying to set her irritation levels at an all time high. He did not know her situation; she believed he didn’t know anything about her, aside from what the brief brush into her psyche yielded. 

And besides, if she didn’t know anything about herself, how could he? 

"Mortals these days are very unwilling to part with knowledge to strangers. Twenty years ago, where I assume you are from, you would be very unlucky to find people who wouldn't be willing to part with anything. Nowadays, everybody kisses, but doesn't tell," She turned to her side, expecting to see him there. When she turned her head and found him, a respectful distance behind her, she gave him a wink and returned her gaze to the street. "We would be better off doing our own investigative work."

“What was that for?” He asked as she turned around a corner, the former darting to keep her in relative earshot. 

“What? The wink?” She stopped and waited for him to reach her. She regarded him with a curious eye as he stood next to her, eyes not meeting her own. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you are walking behind me because you respect my authority?”

“I can walk behind you for other reasons?” He looked at her, giving her a quizzical look. “You are the one in charge here. I follow you, don’t I?”

Bayonetta placed her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t take the opportunity?”

“To do what?” His eyes were full of confusion as they finally met hers. “I don’t understand what you are implying.”

Shaking her head slightly, she wandered into a plaza followed closely by him. Mortals were milling about, doing their own business. Some were drinking coffee, others were resting and admiring the trees and architecture and others were playing in the square. She felt Sephiroth stand beside her, and she placed her hands on her hips as she surveyed them.

"You know, once you get past all the cranky puritans, this place isn't actually that bad," she said to herself, feeling a pang of jealousy aimed at the mortal's flicker inside of her. This was something she would never get to experience, and probably never will; the ability to just sit back and relax for once.

She could sense his sorrow and jealousy, probably for the same reasons as herself; but also a sense of anger directed at them, much to her confusion.

“It’s because you can stand among them and not become a new specimen for them to gawk at,” he spat out, and she glanced at him in surprise.

“What brought that on?” 

“It’s nothing.” He pushed forward, charging into the square. Sighing, she followed behind him, taking her time to look around. Her eyes glanced over a familiar looking mortal, then dismissed it as a trick of the light.

_He died twenty years ago._

Yes, he did. And mortals stayed dead.

The courtyard had an exit opposite them, and she figured it was the next destination they were looking for. She had decided internally that the best course of action was probably to head up the small hill behind the town, and use the ancient coliseum up there as a vantage point. As much as his suggestion had merit, she really didn’t want to deal with-

"That one there is acting strange." Sephiroth pointed out a mortal. Her eyes narrowed as she realised it was the one she had seen before.

"Everybody stares at a window every now and then." Bayonetta dismissed it, beginning to walk onwards and towards the exit. "Window shopping, perving on someone, planning a burglary…"

"There is nothing behind that window. Just an empty room." He frowned, staying put. "There is no reason for them to be looking there."

Bayonetta frowned as well and stopped. The one she recognised was staring at a window? That was never a good sign. "That is most peculiar indeed. Let's go and see what they are up to then."

The pair walked up to the mortal and scrutinised them. It was an attractive male with long brown hair tied back into a ponytail, a five o'clock shadow, brown eyes and a light frame. The face was handsome, and Bayonetta had to agree that it was an extremely good-looking face. It would've been a face she'd commit to memory and fuck later on in the night, but this was an inappropriate time to even think that, let alone do. There were many more important matters before sex. Like why this good-looking mortal was peering at a window like he had seen a ghost. 

And why he looked so similar to the man that exploded twenty years ago.

"Are there any special properties to windows?" Sephiroth asked, looking intently at the object in question. "Or to this window in particular?"

"There shouldn't be, they reflect everything, regardless…" Bayonetta realised what was going on. "He can see us. Bloody hell."

“Huh? I thought mortals couldn’t-”

“Mirrors reflect the truth.” She answered, deliberately crypticising it for him to mull over. “Now, I’m not sure whether this fellow is an-”

"Rosemary and daffodils. An odd combination, don't you think?" The man said aloud. He stood up, pushing his chair back and placing his cup onto the table. He began to walk towards the window, looking at her in particular. "In the language of flowers, rosemary equates to remembrance, whilst daffodils signify loss. It's kind of ironic that those are the main scents in your perfume, Bayonetta."

He whipped around, a camera in his fingers. It flashed, and the man’s face fell as the picture turned up, presumably, blank. Her companion gave her a questioning look, which she ignored and focused on the man. Why did he know her, but she didn't know him? That was really itching at her. 

_It’s hardly a coincidence._

Indeed it wasn’t. 

“I’ve spent years searching for you, Bayonetta.” He looked around wildly, missing her position by a few metres. “You will pay for what you have done to me, and my family.”

Did she swindle this poor soul someday? Was he a previous conquest? Could these questions be answered? Her curiosity was burning now. Sephiroth hadn’t moved an inch, and she stifled a giggle when a woman ran through him, the ghostly outline clearly shuddering when they passed through him.

"You can’t hide from me forever!”

“On the contrary, my little cheshire puss, I can.” She whispered, and she knew he heard him. He whipped around to the window again, searching for her. 

“I don't know what monster you are travelling with, but it certainly fits your soul." He spotted her companion, smirking slightly as Sephiroth looked away in shame. "Twisted and heartless, just like you. You murderer."

Her blood ran cold, but she didn't show it. She really wanted to kick this… asshole, for lack of a better term, through the window, but her curiosity was beating her vengeance on this day. Instead, she opened a portal to the mortal realm and stepped through. Placing a hand on her hip, she answered him with as much confidence as she could muster. "So, who did I kill?"

"Ahhhh!" The man fell forwards in surprise and landed on his face. She smirked as he rushed ungracefully to flop himself around to an upright position. His eyes widened as he saw her, and his body began to shy away from her, as if he was already preparing to run. "It's you! It's really you!"

"You know, you shouldn't be poking your nose into other people's business." She scolded, holding a single finger up. "They do say curiosity killed the cat, Cheshire. You should do your best to believe it."

"That's not my name!" he yelled, clearly offended.

"And, some people are very self-conscious. You might want to keep your mouth shut about their appearances." She shook her head. "You've been a very naughty boy, Cheshire."

"My name is Luka Redgrave, dammit." He snarled as he climbed to his feet and stared Bayonetta down. "Not Cheshire, or Garfield, or whatever you decide to come up with!"

She regarded him evenly. The name was familiar to her; the journal she very much consulted shared the surname. Was this a long lost relative?

"You know, I've met a plethora of people who acted just like you; thinking that because of their cock, they get to be the rulers of the world and me." She gave him an evil smile, tilting her head. "And those people aren't around anymore, for reasons most definitely unrelated to me. So, I'll ask once more, Cheshire, who did I kill?"

"It's Luka, and you'd best remember it!" Luka ground his teeth together in frustration. "And you killed my father when you awoke from your little nap twenty years ago!"

Bayonetta was stunned. Not only did someone witness it, but believed she had? The theory that she did kill that man was rising faster and faster to highly likely. Wincing in pain, she touched her forehead as the memory rushed through her…

_What she saw when she opened her eyes was darkness. She was inside some kind of box, and it was starting to glow purple. It opened, and a large volume of water poured onto her. Kicking off the bottom, she launched herself out of the water to get to the air as primal instincts kicked in._

_Flopping onto the bank and catching her breath, she sat up and observed her surroundings. A small lake surrounded by mountains with a town in the background. She did not recognise any of it. Letting air draw into her lungs, she realized that she did not remember her name, or anything about her. Frowning and gasping, she pressed fingers to her temples as she tried to remember anything. Something that might help her._

_Nothing._

_Screaming in frustration, she slammed her fist into the ground. As that happened, a man rose into the air behind her, spread like an eagle, screaming in pain. Whipping her head around, she found someone wearing a mask looking at her in desperation. Staring at him with wide eyes, she watched helplessly as he was torn asunder, limb pulled from limb._

_She raised her hands to her face and looked at them. Did she cause this? Had she killed a man in frustration? She had powers? She had no control over them?_

_A strange sense overflowed her. It felt… heavenly. Instinctually, she splayed a hand out and a strange purple symbol appeared in front of her. Something drew her to step through it, so she did._

_Immediately, she was beset by strange, Angelic creatures. Each was snarling in a language she could recognise, and they were saying something about the Left Eye._

_Then they swooped, and she was dragged into one of the first fights for her life._

"I take it by your silence that you are trying to think of some sort of argument, some sort of reason to convince me otherwise that you didn't kill my father." Luka shook his head. "You'd be talking to deaf ears, I'm afraid."

Bayonetta finally noticed that a crowd had formed both around her and this Luka. They were murmuring about her, about him and about what he said, spreading falsehoods and rumours, no doubt. She paid them no attention and kept her focus on the man in front of her.

"Cheshire, is this really the place to do this?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. "I am quite a busy person."

"It is, Bayonetta." Luka answered with hatred. "You will face justice for this crime, and I will be the one to give it out! The world will know!"

_‘Bayonetta, can you hear me?’_ Sephiroth's voice echoed in her head. She blinked in surprise but continued her conversation with Luka, realising she could do a different approach altogether.

"You would love to spank this ass for my punishment, wouldn't you?" She replied, smiling a little. "Is that why you've tried this method?"

Luka doubled back in bluster. "No! I would never want to bed a murderer! And besides, I have enough people in my life already!"

_‘There is a flock of Affinities coming towards here. They have a Beloved with them.’_ His tone was one of urgency. A quick tap of her glasses confirmed his words, and she rolled her eyes slightly. _‘I believe that one of them spotted us earlier.’_

_Couldn’t they leave her in peace for once?_

_‘Unlikely. They are looking for me.’_ He answered. She blinked, but then smiled. Of course he heard her. 

_Couldn’t you have just found the naughty Angel before it found us?_

_‘You think I was looking for Angels? I was busy trying to figure out what you are up to, along with Mr Mortal over here. Who is he, by the way?’_

She didn’t answer him, merely opting to leave the conversation without too much of an issue. Well, she could’ve just left at any time, but she felt that it would be unbecoming of a protector of mortals to not warn them of the oncoming danger.

"You're unlucky today, Cheshire, for I have business that needs attending." She gave him a wave. Summoning a portal above her, she flashed him a smile. "Taa!"

And with that she jumped up and returned to Purgatorio, leaving a dumbfounded crowd and a stunned Luka.

"Dammit!" He swore. Kicking a rock towards where she was standing, he turned back to the window to find her.

She smirked as a bullet shattered the glass, and the crowd screamed and began to scatter. He merely stood there, watching the shards pass him.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Cheshire.” She whispered to him. Her gaze moved to the Angels, watching them with anticipation as the Beloved climbed over buildings, dragging its gigantic axe behind itself. It bellowed out a challenge, and a car flew into its face. “There is no rosemary in the perfume.”

She wasn’t quite sure what he was smelling. Perhaps he needed to get himself checked out, with a faulty sense of smell.

“After all, rosemary is a Demon repellent. And I very much need those.”

…

_“Stand down and let the experiment return to us, Witch!”_ The Angel boomed, pulling the axe around to an upright position, resting on it slightly. _“We will see to it that you will not be harmed.”_

“You really do want this poor boy, don’t you?” She twirled a gun on a finger, preparing a spell with her other. “Why is he so important?”

_“If it is not to be returned, then you will suffer!”_

“I won’t be returning so easily.” Sephiroth snarled, almost ready to launch himself. Fortunately, she decided to make the first move.

“PDEE BARMA!” 

Her patron let out a sigh of relief as she was partially manifested into Purgatorio, still tethered under Bayonetta’s control. Her hair suit had contracted into a leotard as she threw herself into the battle, kicking one Affinity out of the way before charging towards the Beloved. 

A Beloved, unlike the oversized turkeys that were the Affinities and Applaud, were an entirely different style of beast. They stood at three stories tall, with arms the size of trucks and short, stubby legs the size of cars. Their porcelain, baby-like face was central to their chest, giving it the impression of a giant hunch. And that hunch could be further attributed to the giant axe, that was longer than it was tall and easily weighed as much as a small truck, swinging towards her.

Launching herself into a slide, her suit reforming around her lower body to not give her a concrete burn, she felt the axe head miss her by mere centimetres. Rolling out, she used the momentum to spring herself up and delivered a kick to its head. Butterfly followed in with a punch, and the Beloved rocked back.

An Affinity swung in with its polearm at her patron, who shrieked as the blade bit into her calf. Before the offending Angel could be crushed in retribution, fire began to engulf it and began to burn. It screamed a sound Bayonetta had never heard, and quite frankly never wanted to hear again, and died as the body began to char. Her gaze went to Sephiroth, and she found him being swarmed by Affinity’s as they realised the danger her partner could be. She smirked.

_Perhaps he wouldn’t be such a liability after all…_

Magic wasn’t unheard of, after all, but elemental magicks were a rarity amongst both Umbra and Lumen. From what she knew, those techniques were difficult to learn, let alone master. It was partially the reason why the clans gravitated towards Dark and Light powers; it was far easier to learn, especially when aided by a patron. And besides, with such a fast track to the power of Demons at your fingertips, why bother with another class of magic? She personally found it pointless and supposed the previous Umbra found it the same.

Sephiroth wasn’t exactly showing mastery of the elements. But he was certainly no beginner. He had been on the run for a year - he could have learned his way through the elements in short service. 

Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. Soul. There was evidence of the first and last, and she figured the other three would be popping up sooner or later.

In an absence of dark or light, the rainbow shined. 

The Beloved gurgled behind her, and her attention was redrawn to it. The train of thought from the elementals was forgotten. Now, it was showtime.

"Since when were you telepathic?" Bayonetta asked as she weaved through the Beloved's legs. Shooting its ankles, she jumped up onto the Beloved's back and began to pummel it down with the help of Madama Butterfly.

Sephiroth burst out of the Affinity’s, sending them back with a gust of wind. Grabbing one of the Angels, he tossed it towards another, knocking both back out and giving him an escape. He ran towards the opening, pulling out the feet of those who tried to follow him.

"Since then." He replied, summoning a bolt of lightning to shock a trumpet-wielding Affinity who had regained its stance. The Angel started spasming before crumbling to the ground, the smell of burnt flesh and feathers emanating from it. "I was thinking about my abilities whilst you were talking with that man, and it honestly seemed easy in concept. Instead of reading the mind, just put the words I want to say there."

That was honestly impressive. "So, you can get inside my head properly now?" She asked, smirking as the Beloved tried to swat her, but Madama had other ideas and pinned the arm down with a leg. "You probably don't want to see what's in there, darling, unless you're into that sort of stuff."

He paused in shock, probably at the implication. An Affinity caught him in the back, pulling on his wing and launching him towards a wall. He left a crater with the impact, but jumped out of it with relative ease. The Affinity rumbled with a challenge, brandishing its staff. It was ripped out of its hand with a flick of his fingers, and then it froze in place. She tilted her head at the Angel, puzzled by its action, until he jumped forward with a clumsy and graceless parody of her kick, and the Angel shattered into pieces.

“Ah, you picked the wrong time to freeze up, darling.” She launched the Beloved upwards with a joint uppercut weave from Butterfly, who began to fade back into Inferno. “At least do it right next time.” 

He had the grace to look embarrassed, but the sensibility to understand the tease. Grabbing and tossing the last Affinity into the wall, and watching it explode into blood and halos, he turned to watch her.

"I could try to see…" He finally said, as she stepped down from the Angel. "But I don't think it’s morally right to mess with someone's head. He taught me that."

"That, my dear, is correct." She began to do her dance and chanting, and soon enough her hair retreated from her body to form into a giant demonic dog. Sephiroth gasped, went bright red and turned around, drawing a laugh from her. The demon began to feast on the Beloved, roaring with approval against its screams of anguish as it was devoured alive.

Seconds later, it was over. The Demon let off a final roar that echoed and reverberated throughout the courtyard, before shrinking and disappearing back into the portal. Her hair returned to her body, and she tapped on Sephiroth's shoulder. "You can turn around now."

"What the hell was that?" He asked, and then frowned at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean the pun, I swear.”

"That was an Infernal, or a demon, one of many I've made a contract with. You must be familiar with them, considering they are inside of you. This particular one is named Gammorah, the devourer of the divine.” She explained briefly, all but turning away to head towards the exit.

"I know that! Well, not the name part, but I know witches can summon Infernals. But what the hell was all that? She never did that." He gestured to her body. His face still was tinted red.

Bayonetta giggled. "An Umbra Witch's power normally manifests with her hair, and since I'm the best Umbra witch alive, I don't need to wear any clothing."

Sephiroth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, you're permanently naked. No big deal…"

Something was bugging her, and a quick glance around the square confirmed her hunch. The mortal of interest was still there, obvious unperturbed by the seemingly invisible destruction that happened around him. He was still looking around, trying to find a sign. Or a window.

“You only run so fast because you’ve got something to run from; me!” He shook his head. “But you can’t hide forever!”

She very much could. Hell, she was standing right behind him now, staring at him with a guarded expression.

“I won’t let everything be in vain.” He whispered. “I didn’t waste my life chasing stories, among other things, to be thwarted after just a glimpse. I know you are real, Bayonetta. I have seen you.”

“There he is!”

A glance towards their exit showed a security guard, baton and gun in hand, gesturing at this Luka. He shook his head, and kicked a mostly intact cart towards him. The guard grunted as he was struck, and in his moment of weakness was when Luka acted. He gestured towards the buildings, and a small zipline shot out of his wrist. Seconds later, he was on the side of the building, scrambling over and onto the roof. 

Then he disappeared.

“Shit! Where did that fucker go?”

Bayonetta eyed the rooftop with a smirk. She didn’t think that would be the last they would see of him; if anything, she fully expected to see him again soon.

“Until next time, Cheshire.” She whispered to herself, then turned on her heel and gestured for Sephiroth to follow.

...

They continued through the town for a little longer, trying to find anything that looked like transport, or the path out. The exit they had chosen had yielded a small pathway down and into another courtyard, where a church on a cliff side could be seen not too far from where they were.

So that became their new destination.

"With your technique,” She began as they walked down a straight. "You're very heavy on your punches and kicks, like you are over-committing. Also, don’t mimic others until you are much better at fighting."

"Is it not good enough to commit to power?" He asked in return. "It's all I really have, I've never been formally trained with any style, or anything that's instinctual from before all of this."

"I was trained in the Umbran style, and they respected proficiency and accurateness over just beating your opponent to death with raw strength over anything else. " Bayonetta explained. "One small tap to the right bone will do the same damage as a roundhouse kick to the head."

"Power isn't necessarily everything?" he caught on quick. She nodded in approval as they rounded a bend.

"Right! You might think that it's best to punch everything like it's an annoying sibling, and it's not too shabby of a strategy. But, all you really need to do is find the weak spot and take that out." She summoned her journal and opened to the page on Beloved. "For instance, you can go toe to toe with this angel, and take ten minutes beating the shit out of it, or you can aim for this little spot on his back and be done in seconds. All you must do is find the weak spot and exploit it. Always keep that in mind."

"That makes sense…" He frowned. "What about my magic? Is that going alright?”

"Your magic? That’s a whole different Angel." she replied, gathering her thoughts. “I’m not unfamiliar with the concepts of elemental magic, I’ve just never applied the theory.”

“How come?”

“It reportedly ridiculously hard to learn. Obviously, as you just showcased, it’s probably not that hard, but why would I ever need it? The dark magicks of Inferno work just fine to me.” She shrugged in return, stopping.

“What do you mean, hard to learn?” He stopped, staring at her. She turned away for a second, gathering her thoughts.

“To learn a magical technique, Umbra and Lumen both had to understand the trivialities of that particular branch of magic. Most of my knowledge of the dark arts comes from the bond I share with Madama Butterfly.” She answered slowly. “Lagunan and Infernals generally don’t use any one of the five elements, and stick with light or dark respectively. Perhaps due to your apparent uniqueness, and because you haven’t been trained to use a specific branch of magic, you can learn the elements a lot easier than most. I’m not sure.”

“And here I thought you knew everything.” He smiled and shook his head. “Do you have any advice regarding experimentation?”

“Darling, I know far more than you think.” She answered with a wink, and he blushed in response. “The only advice I can give is to not overextend yourself unless you think you can win. And don’t experiment in the middle of battle. If it fails, I won’t always be there to pull you out of a sticky situation."

He nodded, then grew serious as he appraised her. "Are you alright?"

She frowned and gave him a look. "I'm not supposed to be?"

"That man back there accused you of a lot of stuff." Sephiroth folded his arms, tilting his head. "That's got to affect anybody."

"I think you are mistaken, darling." She faked a smile. "He didn't affect me at all."

He let it drop, but his expression didn't look like he believed her at all. They both continued walking, and soon enough the church was in sight.

…

She was waiting for them before the church, blocking the entrance. Her arms were folded, her eyes glared, and her body rested on a very expensive and ornate bike behind her.

"You again?" Bayonetta asked in surprise. "You do look awfully happy to be here."

Sephiroth went rigid as he, too, recognised her. "You… It’s you!”

"Yes, it's me! Good job for your eyes still working." She snapped at him, turning to look Bayonetta in the eyes. "Does the name Jeanne mean anything to you?"

So that's what her name was, she assumed. Her memory didn’t provide an answer, but this time there was no rush of emotion telling her she should know. If anything, this woman was completely unfamiliar to her. "Should it? You really do have a face I’d never forget, yet..."

Jeanne's eyes fell into despair, and then the fury came back, doubled over. "It bloody well should! He said your memories were restored. He said you would remember!"

"Who said what?" Bayonetta was getting a feeling something wasn't quite right with this woman. As if she wasn’t…

Who she remembered? But that was impossible, right? She didn’t know her, right?

She knew this woman. That alone she could gather from her reaction, but this feeling of wrongness confirmed it for her. Now, if she was careful, maybe she could-

"You remember him! So, remember!" she snarled, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ve waited far too long for this moment, and our reunion will not be denied!”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea of who you are.” Bayonetta looked closer. “You do share my powers, and act just like me. Please don’t say you are some long, lost sister of mine?”

“Same powers?” Jeanne spat, rolling her eyes. “You have forgotten your place, and your purpose, my old friend. We could be nothing similar!”

“Would you be so kind to take it from the top, then?” 

Then all hell broke loose. Sephiroth pushed past her and lunged at the woman, and she dodged his initial onslaught of punches and kicks, all aimed at her abdomen. Flipping out of range with a graceful leap, she landed atop a street light and grinned down at the pair. A gun appeared in her left hand, lazily held there whilst her other steadied herself in her perch.

"At least one of you remembers me." She shook her head. "The Father's missing experiment. Maybe this will all be worth it if I bring you back to where you belong."

"I am not your experiment!" Sephiroth took the bait, hook, line and sinker and Bayonetta rolled her eyes. "I'd rather die than go back!"

"You will find that it would take a lot for me to try to kill you. The Father really wants his prize back." Jeanne said. "And he is-" A huge crack broke the silence as a massive lightning bolt burnt through the light post she was standing on, with its target flipping off it and landing beside her bike. As Jeanne dusted herself off, she pretended to think, stroking her chin. 

"Impressive, most impressive. Even if I don't get you today, new information on your powers is always welcome." She winked at him with a smirk. "But you'll have to try better."

Growling, Sephiroth took a stance to charge forward when Bayonetta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her. As he struggled, she held him to her. "Rule number three: Never fight while emotionally compromised." She growled into his ear. "Especially when they want you to be!"

"That's right, Bayonetta." Jeanne smiled, her eyes glinting a strange blue. "Just be weak. Never allow your strength to be shown, always hide behind something, especially a weak reflection of what you think you are!"

This made Bayonetta flinch, and almost release Sephiroth. "You know, for someone with such a big mouth, you barely do anything to back up your little words." She replied, managing to keep her exterior from cracking. Grabbing one of her guns, she pointed it and fired at it at her. Jeanne dodged it with ease and stepped over and onto her bike.

"You obviously don't remember a thing." She shook her head in shame. "We will meet again, and maybe then he will be right!"

Revving the engine, she drove off into the streets and out of sight.

…

"So, it was her that did this to you?" Bayonetta awkwardly asked. Sephiroth had been quiet for the last half hour, and she could feel the rage emanating from him. He had remained in Purgatorio as she asked around for directions, finally giving into his initial suggestion. It was as she expected, mostly getting glares and silence from the locals. A few brave souls had given her some hints about a pathway through the mountains, or simply using a helicopter to fly there, but that was information she already knew. 

"Yes." He answered quietly. His tone was one of pain and anger, but she knew it wasn't directed at her.

"So... What did she do?" She tried to get him to talk, try to get him to share his story. She knew it wasn't going to be a fun experience with him like this for the rest of the Vigrid journey. And it was something that she had learnt from other mortal interactions that talking about their feelings helped in the short term, and sometimes the long term. It had to be the same for him, right?

However, she was wrong.

"You want me to tell you about the torture I suffered from just her alone?" Sephiroth faced her and hissed. "You are quite mistaken, I can tell you that. She holds nothing but pain for me! The next time I see that bitch, I’m going to kill her!"

"By Sheba, that’s a reaction and a half...” She gave him a cursory glance.

“She tortured me, tried to kill me, did everything to me!” He ranted, avertedly revealing what she wanted to hear. “When he experimented on me, she was the one enjoying my suffering!”

“Who is he? This ‘Father’ person everyone keeps mentioning.” 

“What do you think?” A random car crumbled into a ball nearby, a few mortals screaming and running in fear. Bayonetta slapped him over the back of the head, noticing the glow in his eyes fade. She noted that tell down for future reference, then fixed him with a glare.

“Control yourself, and don’t be so sarcastic. If you aren’t going to be helpful, then snap out of this little funk you are in or shove a stick up your ass so you have an excuse to be." She shook her head. "You do know that she was trying to get under your skin, right?"

"I know! It’s just that-" He paused, as if he recognised something. His head whipped around, staring back at the way they came from. "Did you sense that too?"

Bayonetta frowned as a very familiar presence pulled at her. "Why do I know this?"

"The church. Back where she was." He turned on his heel and started running, Bayonetta following hot on his trail. This new presence was both tantalizing and frustrating. Something in her head was telling her that she knew for absolute certainty what this was. She just couldn't place it or tell what it was supposed to be.

They arrived within seconds, the small double back taking far less time than before. Kicking open the door, Bayonetta burst in and scanned the room for... Well, anything out of the ordinary.

To her expectations, there was. A small girl was sitting in the centre of the room, playing with a small doll. Sephiroth skidded to a halt beside her, grabbing onto a pillar to stop his momentum. 

Both adults blinked in surprise, and then looked at each other in confusion.

"She is the one?" Bayonetta asked in uncertainty. She glanced at the walls of the bare church, then settled back onto the girl. “That’s what you sensed? A little girl.”

"That's what I'm sensing." He answered hesitantly. The two of them stared at her for a while, completely unsure of what to make of the situation.

Bayonetta weighed in her options. After a tiny internal debate, where the only con of her plan was Sephiroth potentially running away, she decided to do it anyway.

"Well, darling, I think I'm going to have a chat with the little one." She announced. "Try not to run off now!"

"What? Bayonetta!? Wait!" He called out as she entered the mortal realm. And proceeded to point a gun at the child.

"Hello there, little one." She asked coolly, as the girl looked up to her, completely unperturbed by the weapon in her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi!" The girl smiled politely. At least the tyke had manners. "I don't know why I'm here."

Bayonetta blinked and she lowered the gun. That was wholly unexpected, yet at the same time she wasn’t surprised. "Are your parents around? You are certainly not dressed in your Sunday best.” 

"Mummy is sick, and Daddy is busy with work." The child answered, her happiness fading. "The other witches left me here."

"Other witches?" Bayonetta asked. Wasn't she the only one left? Well, aside from that Jeanne figure, but something told her that she wasn't the motherly type.

"They don't like me very much." The girl pouted. "They call me nasty names and tell me I'm not wanted."

If Bayonetta was anyone else, her heart would've melted for the child. "That's not very nice of them. Come, I'll take you back to Mummy and Daddy, okay?"

She reached out to the child, who also copied her action. As their hands touched, a spark moved from one to another, and she felt a huge wave of magic rush out. Pulling her hand back, she frowned at the girl, who was giggling.

"Wow!" The girl smiled. "That was cool! Let’s do that again!"

"What did you just do?" She asked, now uncertain of her. “And I don’t think we want to be doing that again, little one.”

A crack sounded behind her as a tear between the dimensions opened, and Sephiroth stepped through. "What the hell just happened?"

"I'm not sure." She turned back to look at him, rising from her lean. "What did you see in Purgatorio?"

He looked at her grimly. "A big beacon of magical energy spiking downwards. Something tells me you just broke a seal."

Bayonetta's eyes widened in surprise and she turned back to face the child, only to find it missing. 

"Little one?" She asked, not expecting an answer. A huge tremor interrupted her brief search, shaking the ground violently. Sephiroth nearly fell over, but a slight shove from her pushed him towards the opposite pillar, and he grabbed on gratefully. Sharing a glance, they both pushed off their respective pillar as the tremors lessened, diving back into Purgatorio. 

He wasn’t lying. A small section of a symbol etched onto the ground glowed on the church’s floor with a bright purple light. It looked like a curve, with several flourishes of lines coming off it, assumedly painting a larger picture onto the ground further beyond.

“What is this?” She questioned, crouching down to check it closely. As she did so, it stopped glowing and the symbol disappeared.

She tensed. Her eyes wandered around, ready for almost anything.

"An Audito…" Sephiroth whispered, almost trancelike, from behind her. "An Audito comes…"

"Darling?" Bayonetta turned, confused. "Darling?! Sephiroth?!"

He collapsed, holding his head. A massive explosion came from the right as a massive draconic head crashed into and through the church, growling and screaming. Gripping her guns tightly, she turned and faced the beast.

The ensuing fight, if you wanted to call it one, was surprisingly easy. Because it had stupidly stuck its head into a small space, the only thing it could do was watch as she pummelled the side of its head with punches, kicks, bullets and wicked weaves. It ineffectually snapped at her, but she could see the attack coming from a mile off.

It eventually grew tired of her kicking its ass back to kingdom come and pulled out of the church, giving her a small glimpse of the abomination it was attached to. Sensing that it wasn't finished with them yet, she turned and ran outside and away from the church, scooping Sephiroth into her arms. His face was contorting in pain, hands gripping his skull with a tightness that was giving her a headache. Looking away from him as to not give herself a migraine, she ran towards the small bridge connecting the cliff the church was situated atop to the mainland. Not a moment later, a massive explosion wiped the church clean from existence, the shockwave causing her to stumble slightly.

Glancing back, Bayonetta finally saw the attacker.

It had two Angelic wings, two draconic heads, two claws and one massive upside-down face on its chest. It was breathing flame, lasers of fire and fireballs everywhere and it seemed intent on destroying the town. A memory flashed into her mind from nowhere, scattered and broken;

_Umbra Witches shooting at the same angel from a bridge, several more rushing passed her, urging for her to join in on the fight._

_She watched nearly helplessly as it slaughtered them one by one._

_Eventually, the witches had annoyed it sufficiently, and it growled and retreated._

So this Angel was in her past. That was something that could be helpful. It was a former memory of hers, and that was new. Letting her feet run, she saw an entranceway high on one the small mountains, just past a courtyard and building. Launching herself, she jumped straight in as the fountain exploded into fire. Lava spewed out of the ground as the power of the Audito began to destroy the town.

_“You dare to keep an Umbra within this town?”_ It rumbled from the central head, its blank eyes seeming looking for something. It was probably her, no doubt about it. _“You will die for betraying our agreement, mortals!”_

More rumblings began to shake the small passageway she was in, and she hoped that it wouldn’t collapse before they reached the end.

…

His body felt like it was trying to tear itself apart. His Angelic and Lumen side was praising and worshipping the Audito and was trying to influence him to meet it. His Demonic and Umbran side was hissing and snarling and demanded that he kill it for them. Both sides were at war, trying to direct him and take the reins to their respective pathways. With no way of gaining control of the warring factions within him, he was left to their mercy.

He felt grateful for Bayonetta. She had helped him to safety for a second time, and his life in the process as well. A bump against the wall sent waves of pain through him, and he moaned in response. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw her running and leaping throughout a cave system filled with old architecture. She glanced down at him, and she looked like she had seen something worse.

"Wakey wakey." She said, trying to keep her normal tease in her voice despite the view around them. "What happened back there?"

"My body hurts…" He croaked. "Trying…to…do… two separate… things…"

"Ah." She didn't understand but didn't press the issue. She ran until they both finally saw the end of the tunnel. A bright light, not artificially created from the lava or fire running rampant throughout the town. Sephiroth closed his eyes and hoped for the pain to subside, or the Audito to leave.


End file.
